Alyson Hickey Photography

Celebrity blogger Jenna von Oy is a new mama!

Best known for her roles as Six on Blossom and Stevie on The Parkers, von Oy is also a musician who has released two albums and is set to publish a book, The Betweeners.

von Oy, 36, wed Brad Bratcher on Oct. 10, 2010, and resides in Nashville with her husband and five dogs.

They welcomed their first child, daughter Gray Audrey, in May 2012. She is now 20 months old.

You can find her on Facebook and Twitter @JennavonOy, as well as posting on her weekly blog, The Cradle Chronicles.

In her latest blog, von Oy gives readers a humorous glimpse of the world through her daughter’s eyes.

These days, in the world according to Gray, everything is rainbows and butterflies. (Save for the rare occasion when a babysitter comes-a-knocking, but that’s another story!)

Impromptu kitchen dance parties are encouraged, and people are prone to randomly burst into songs about broccoli or potty training. Mommy and Daddy offer endless kisses and cuddles, strangers always smile back, everything is a learning opportunity, and disappointment is mostly fleeting.

Reality is essentially a Sesame Street revival, minus the Muppets. Welcome to seeing life through the eyes of a 20-month old!

Since this is my first blog of 2014, I thought I’d give you an update on the neat little human we get to share our lives with. Now that Gray is beyond the infant phase and well into the throes of Toddler-dom, we are discovering just what a character we are raising!

Alyson Hickey Photography

Her current age is, in short, incredible and incredibly trying. But most of all, it’s truly inspiring to watch our baby turn into a little girl … And a very happy-go-lucky one at that! I feel thoroughly blessed.

Gray is unbelievably sweet, emotionally generous, intuitive and inquisitive, eager to be challenged, and quite comedic in her own right. She also happens to be super easygoing — unless it is nap time, of course, when “cranky” is sometimes a fitting adjective. But heck, I get cranky when I’m overtired too. Or when I don’t eat. Or when someone runs a stop sign and then has the audacity to honk at me for being in their way … But I digress.

In general, Gray has a calm demeanor with a hint of stubbornness. And let’s be honest, she was probably genetically predestined to have the latter. I’m just saying.

As she moves toward her second birthday, Gray is constantly pushing the bounds of her physical and mental limitations. She certainly keeps us on our toes, but we can’t help but laugh our way through it all. It’s hard not to, given her innate comic timing!

Her sense of humor never ceases to amaze us, and often catches us by surprise. If I thought sarcasm and wit were personality traits that wouldn’t reveal themselves for many years to come, boy was I wrong! My daughter is goofy, funny, full of vim and vigor, and smart as a whip. She is a force to be reckoned with.

Oh yeah, and she knows it.

To be clear, I’m not suggesting we don’t have some trying times here at our house. The notorious “terrible twos” are on the horizon, and the dark and stormy clouds roll past from time to time. For the most part, I believe any fit or foul attitude (which have been very minor thus far, thankfully) is generally based on Gray’s inability to properly articulate her intentions. It must be frustrating to feel like she can never adequately express herself!

Courtesy Jenna von Oy

I’m doing my best to practice patience when her temper flares, and she tries to do the same for me. I’d like to think we make a pretty good team.

Despite our attempts at patience, we certainly have our share of vocabulary battles. There are moments when my daughter and I are speaking two different languages, and things get lost in translation.

For example, there was the time she politely asked to snack on mango, and I mistook it as a request for mushrooms. She typically loves mushrooms, but when you are craving a mango, there’s apparently no room for the consideration of fungi. The mango versus mushroom debate was enough to send her over the edge.

And then there was the toast debacle that immediately followed. (In case you haven’t already guessed, naptime couldn’t come quickly enough that day!)

During another failed attempt at decoding toddler-ese, I thought Gray was informing me that she was hungry … turns out she needed to go to the potty. Oops, my bad.

The occasional language barrier notwithstanding, Gray’s speaking abilities are advancing rapidly and most statements are remarkably clear. Her growth has been exponential. In fact, I think her vocabulary tripled after we spent the Christmas holiday with my siblings!

It’s neat when she suddenly strings a whole sentence together, or recites words I wasn’t aware she knew, such as “freckle,” “sushi,” and “excuse me.” I silently celebrate each time that last phrase is uttered; it’s like getting an invisible gold star in Parenting 101. There’s a lot of pride that comes from hearing my child extend polite words without being told to! Here’s hoping we can continue to nurture that.

In honor of Gray’s recent whimsies and witticisms, I thought I’d let her detail some of the fun facts regarding the current state of affairs in her world … Sort of.

I’m certain she’d share these observations with you herself, were her inner dictionary extensive enough to do so. Let’s just say I channeled her sentiments and spirited attitude, and ran with it. It’s all in good fun!

The world according to Gray:

1. Yogurt and pickles are to be eaten obsessively, though not at the same time and only until Mommy cuts me off … which, sadly, is always too soon.

2. Brushing my teeth is an elective sport, and is mainly employed as a decoy at bedtime. One of these days, I’ll actually get Mommy to forget it’s time for me to go to sleep. It’s a work in progress.

Courtesy Jenna von Oy

3. Elmo is my BFF and my hero. Mommy isn’t a huge fan of idolizing music or TV icons, but she seems to be cool with my friends on Sesame Street. She says, “Better Elmo than Justin Beiber, I suppose.”

Elmo is quite the superstar around here, and makes Barney look like an overstuffed goofball. (No offense, my high-strung purple pal.) In my humble opinion, Elmo should be present at the dinner table, tucked into bed at night, introduced to every houseguest, and even posted on the Christmas tree in lieu of the traditional star.

Mommy tries to be as accommodating as possible, though sometimes Elmo’s celebrity status gets a bit excessive for her. Between you and I, I suspect she might be jealous.

4. Bedtime isn’t complete without a menagerie of stuffed animals and baby dolls within my line of sight. In case of an emergency, they are there for moral support. I mean, what if one of them wakes up in the middle of the night from a bad dream? I hate to hear Gus Giraffe cry.

5. Chapstick, otherwise known as “chappy,” is technically a face crayon. It is to be applied liberally, whether or not it is actually necessary to cure dry lips.

(Mama’s sidebar: Thankfully, the chapstick we have is kid-friendly and all natural. That said, I’ve banned its use indefinitely. Note to self, hide all makeup until she’s 30!).

Courtesy Jenna von Oy

6. When I’m loud, fear not. When I’m quiet, be afraid. Be very afraid. (Insert maniacal, wicked laughter here.)

7. New vocabulary words are mentally filed away for later use, sometimes at the expense of Mommy and Daddy’s ability to sneak in conversations about subjects they refer to as, “for adult ears only.” Super fun terms like “fester” and “darn” are amusing to whip out when Mommy and Daddy least expect it, because it makes them realize just how much I’m listening and absorbing.

A good example would be the time I overheard someone on a TV show say a bad word I wasn’t supposed to repeat, that rhymed with “truck.” Mommy and Daddy quickly changed the channel, and I’ve forgotten all about it. For now.

8. The best song to dance to is the Castle theme song. Call me crazy, but I’d take that over “It’s A Small World” any day! You’re skeptical? Go watch the opening credits, and see if you aren’t bopping your head to the beat and whistling along. It’s so catchy that Mommy even caught me dancing to it in my sleep!

Courtesy Jenna von Oy

9. Floors are prettiest when festooned with Hello Kitty and Curious George stickers, and a refrigerator is a canvas just waiting for its masterpiece. As is the front door. And the wall. And any other surface that screams out for my creative touch.

After all, I am an artiste! My grandma gave me an awesome art easel for Christmas, so I’m learning how to hone my skills without making Mommy bust out the cleaning sponge … Though I’ll admit it’s pretty funny to watch her scramble when I “forget!” (Mama’s sidebar: Needless to say, we are keeping a close eye on our mini-Michelangelo!)

10. Puppies aren’t just pets; they are siblings. Consider that my warning. Those rascals tear open your Christmas presents, chew your socks, steal your afternoon snacks, and crawl into Mommy’s lap while you are attempting to have quiet cuddle time. Trust me, I’m speaking from experience!

On the other hand, they are also experts at photobombing, which I consider to be one of their redeeming qualities.

11. Hats are a cure-all. No one can possibly cry while wearing a funny hat. They should teach that in therapy! Not that I’ve ever been … I’m not even two, for Pete’s sake!

12. Bibs are futile accessories, as clothing is meant to be caked with food at all times. This includes socks and shoes, and often includes Mommy’s clothing as well. Any day that ends with clean apparel is an unsuccessful day indeed.

(Bonus points for getting food stuck in Mommy’s cleavage without her realizing it!)

13. Straws are never to be used individually, but rather in abundance. Also, the more colorful the straws are, the better the beverage tastes.

Courtesy Jenna von Oy

14. Every time Mommy and Daddy say they are proud, a cookie or animal cracker should be negotiated. This almost never works, but I’m not giving up on it.

15. Any pens hooked over Daddy’s shirt lapel are just begging to be stolen. Any important work papers within reach on Mommy’s desk are just begging to be drawn on.

16. Peekaboo is for babies; utensils are the hip thing now! Unloading the dishwasher is a most enjoyable party game (Pin the tail on the donkey and Twister are WAY old school), and putting silverware in the drawer is cause for celebration and applause.

During a recent tornado drill at my daycare, the teachers herded all of us into the basement, only to find me clutching my lunch silverware for dear life. Laugh all you like (they did), but you can’t say I’m not enterprising. At least if there had been a catastrophe, I would have been able to dig us out with a spork!

17. The more Christmas presents, the merrier. (Thanks for spoiling me Grandmas!) It should be noted that the wrapping paper is equally as entertaining as the gift.

18. If it’s good enough for Mommy, it’s good enough for me. This is my official “Tao of Gray,” and is also known as: whatever Mommy has should be mine.

The motto works when referencing food, clothing, and any item in Mommy’s purse. This especially includes that wonderful little iPhone thingamajig that I desperately yearn for, despite the fact that I haven’t figured out how to unlock it. YET.

19. Clearly, baby proofing was installed so I would have an engaging puzzle to conquer. Spoiler alert: foam table corners can be peeled off, gate latches require some discipline but they’re doable, and toilet locks are a fool’s attempt at keeping me from finagling toys and toothpaste tubes underneath the lid.

20. You want to know a really fun joke to play on your dad? Steal his glasses and hide them in the laundry hamper. It’s hilarious watching your parents scour the house searching for them, and I promise your dad will laugh, despite his frustration. (Of course, that’s only if he actually locates them, so don’t hide them too well.)

A joke on Mom is always fascinating too. Try this: Next time you’re in a public place, especially if you can manage to pull this off at church, point to your mom’s blouse and enthusiastically shout, “Boobie!” It’s really hilarious to watch your mom squirm. If you’re particularly lucky, her face will turn three shades of red.

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Courtesy Jenna von Oy

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little glimpse into what our life is like with Gray these days … Who knows, maybe you were nodding and chuckling knowingly at her list, as you pictured your little one saying and doing similar things.

Pretty soon Gray will be able to hold her own in a conversation, and I won’t have to wonder what’s going through that pretty little head of hers. Until then, I just can’t help speculating! It’s far too amusing.

As always, I love hearing from you, so please feel free to add your own observations in the comment section below.

What would your child say if you could put words in his or her mouth?

Until next time,

– Jenna von Oy

P.S. Please join me on Twitter, and subscribe to my http://www.cradlechronicles.com RSS feed for weekly updates, recipes, and additional motherhood anecdotes!

More from Jenna’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: A Big Thanks to the Little Guy
• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: An Ode to October and Our Wedding Day
• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: Hell Hath No Fury Like a Mommy Scorned

Courtesy Amanda Beard

Thanks for welcoming our newest celebrity blogger, Amanda Beard!

The seven-time Olympic medalist first appeared on the sports scene at the 1996 Atlanta games, walking away with her first gold for the medley relay and two silvers for the 100 and 200-meter breaststrokes — all at the age of 14.

Since then, the competitive swimmer scored a bronze medal at the 2000 Sydney Olympics, and her first individual gold medal along with two silvers at the 2004 Athens games.

Beard, who is sponsored by Aqua Sphere, recently penned her memoir, In the Water They Can’t See You Cry.

She and her husband Sacha Brown married in May 2009 and are the proud parents of son Blaise Ray, 4, and daughter Doone Isla, 7 months.

Beard can be found online on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter @AmandaRayBeard.

Happy New Year, PEOPLE.com!

We rang in 2014 the best way we could think of: on our couch, with two sleeping kiddos, watching the ball drop on TV in New York City, with many hours of glorious sleep following.

Okay, I’m kidding about that last one; we’re parents, after all. Cheers to parenthood!

We also kicked off the New Year with an exciting change: we moved! We have officially sold our home in Tucson, Ariz. and are now happily settled in Seattle, Wash. Both Sacha and I love the desert, but we’re water people at heart, and can’t wait to explore our new state with the kids in tow.

These last few months, I’ve invited you into my life to learn about my family: my husband, Sacha, who has been my rock through the years, our son, Blaise, who is our resident superhero, and our smiley daughter, Doone, who has brought so much love to our family. I’ve talked about our juggling acts, our small victories throughout the weeks, what we’re thankful for and how we stay active together.

Courtesy Amanda Beard

But now I want to talk about something even more personal: me. And more importantly: you! That’s right, Moms — you need a time out, and so do I.

Many bright minds before my time have suggested that it’s important to be selfish as a mom; that our children are at their best selves when we, as parents, are at our best selves. Although my family is my life, I know that I’m a better mom when I’m focused, well-exercised and feeling great.

Let’s Set Goals
In my last post, I talked about setting S.M.A.R.T. goals for New Year’s resolutions, and I told you that I’d share a few of mine.

1. Compete in a race in 2014: It’s been more than a year since I swam competitively, and I truly miss stepping up on the swimming block, assuming the diving position, and diving into the pool to challenge myself against other swimmers.

I’m excited to be training with a new team in Seattle and doing it indoors for the first time in my life. By the end of 2014, I will swim in a competitive race (hopefully more than one!).

2. Train like a champ and have fun doing it: My family has taught me that life is about having fun, but training can be so serious! As an addendum to my previous goal, I vow to keep training fun this year by laughing with my coaches, incorporating my kids, and changing my mindset — in addition to viewing my workouts with the end goal in mind (Rio 2016!).

3. Learn something new every day: Isn’t it amazing how kids have a natural ability to help you achieve this goal at least once, if not twice, a day? Sacha and I work daily to help our kids discover their interests.

Take Blaise, for example. I may be biased, but he is an amazing artist. Blaise has taught me to look at the world a little differently than I normally do, and to see things that I miss in the day-to-day through his artwork. I’ll embrace learning something new every day in 2014 by helping my kids discover their worlds — and our new world in Seattle.

Courtesy Amanda Beard

Let’s Stick to Our Goals
January is an odd time of the year. We exit the holidays feeling full, happy, well-rested and optimistic for the New Year with an awesome set of resolutions (“Get in shape!” “Be happy!” “Hang out with friends!”). And then, oftentimes, the realities of life blindside our goals, which get pushed to the wayside before you can say, “How is it already February?”

Let’s nip this annual bad habit in the bud right now, and stick to our goals. Here’s a few ways I plan to stay committed in 2014.

1. Develop a daily wellness ritual: Whether it’s meditating for 10 minutes each morning or writing one sentence in a journal each night, develop a small habit that brings you happiness each day. Happiness helps people to see the big picture, which in turn, helps you see your goals in the long-term.

2. Create a mantra: Strengthen your goals from the inside out with a phrase that pushes you to the next level. Mantras allow us to focus on something other than what is actually in front of us, move beyond our roadblocks and achieve ongoing success. If you don’t know where to start, you can try one of mine: “You are strong enough.”

3. Visualize your success: Or in other words, go swimsuit shopping in January! I know it seems like summer and swimsuits aren’t even in sight, but I suggest buying a swimsuit now to debut by a goal date. Memorial Day weekend usually works well for this!

By no means am I suggesting you purchase a swimsuit two sizes down, or even one. The goal is to display your swimsuit where you’ll see it every day, which will serve as a reminder to be confident in all of your decisions: drinking more water, eating more veggies, and topping your froyo with berries. Then, once you debut your new swimsuit and your healthy body, you’re bound to feel confident in all the choices you’ve made leading up to that day.

Courtesy Amanda Beard

Let’s Get Active!
Exercise is quintessential to total mind and body happiness. While I’d love to get in a great daily training session, we all know as moms that this isn’t always possible. On those types of days, I aim to complete one of my go-to workouts, which can be completed in your backyard pool or on your living room floor.

Amanda’s Go-To Pool Workout

Warm-up with the following sequence:

200m Swim
200m Kick
200m Pull

Then, complete the following workout sequence one-time through:

8 X 50m: Two of each stroke
8 X 25m: Fly stroke
300m Pull; only breathe every three to five strokes
5 X 100m Kick; use different kicks
300m warm down

Amanda’s Go-To Living Room Workout

Warm up with a quick jog and stretch. Then, complete the following sequence one-time through, resting no more than 30 seconds between each type of move:

50 Body-weight squats
40 Sit-ups
30 Burpees
20 Lunges
10 Pull-ups
5 Push-ups
Are you tired yet? If not, repeat!

Note: I am not a doctor. Do not attempt any sort of workout without consulting your physician first!

Courtesy Amanda Beard

Let’s Look Great — and Feel Great — While Getting Active

Swimming for fitness brings to light an important question: what do I wear? We’re all human, so I understand that you’re slightly squeamish at the thought of getting into a swimsuit at times, but let me remind you: your body is not only beautiful, it’s INCREDIBLE!

You’ve given birth. High five, mamas! As someone who has spent most of her life in a swimsuit, I’ve pretty much figured out the ideal features to look for when selecting swimsuits and accessories to make sure you’re comfortable no matter what.

Select a comfortable swimsuit with the following key features:

• Bust support to keep the girls in place
• Adjustable straps
• Tummy control to provide structure for the midsection
• A medium leg for suitable coverage
• Quick-drying material — Aqua Sphere recently launched a new swim line called AquaLight, which is designed with water repellant material that dries up to six times faster than a normal fabric. Trust me, you won’t want another swimsuit after you try this out!
• My recommendations: Aqua Sphere’s Lima, Tiki, Cindy or Carla.

Select a comfortable pair of goggles with the following key features:

• A lens to provide a 180-degree view of the pool
• Advanced technology for a water-tight seal
• Easy-adjusting straps
• 100 percent UV protection
• My recommendation: Aqua Sphere Kayenne Ladies or Vistas — they also won’t leave those annoying google marks on your face!

Courtesy Amanda Beard

What do you do to be “selfish” in order to be a better mom?

Until next time!

– Amanda Beard

More from Amanda’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Amanda Beard’s Blog: Diving Into the Holidays and New Year
• Amanda Beard’s Blog: Full of Thanks

With my girl – Courtesy Elisabeth Röhm

Elisabeth Röhm has been blogging for PEOPLE.com for three years now.

The SAG Award-winning actress, 40, most recently played Dolly in David O. Russell’s latest film, American Hustle, which is up for 10 Academy Awards at the Oscars, airing March 2.

Röhm is currently guest-starring on Beauty and the Beast.

Her book, Baby Steps: Having the Child I Always Wanted (Just Not As I Expected), was released last April.

She can be found on Facebook, Google + and on Twitter @ElisabethRohm.

In her latest blog, Röhm — mom to 5½-year-old Easton August with fiancé Ron Anthony — takes a step back and realizes it’s time to start taking care of herself again.

You ever feel like your socks have holes where the heels used to be from running around so much? Or that even though you sprayed perfume on this morning before hitting the road for school drop-off that you smell kind of musty? And that despite your attempt at keeping up appearances, that you just don’t have the time to stay on top of your expressive style?

I know, I hear you saying, “Yeah right, whatever actress-mom! You get to wear Marchesa and the like.” But seriously, I was laughing last month at the SAG Awards when an actress was referring to her oh-so-lovely rent-a-princess getup, saying that Cinderella needed to return her princess appearance by noon the next day. “Me too!” I replied. And we laughed at the fantasy.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s a blast getting to play dress up from time to time for work. It is definitely one of the perks, as I do love fashion and beauty. Who doesn’t? We all want to be pureeety!

SAGs red carpet from my point of view - John Shearer/Invision for PEOPLE Magazine/AP

But what of real life? I’ve just never related to the seriously put-together mama teetering on heels in the playground. How do they do it? I think most moms will relate to the absence of direction in their wardrobe and overall look they’ve got going on.

I wrote a blog after Easton was born promising myself that I’d stop wearing long shirts that cover my butt and huge wrap sweaters that resemble blankets with ballet slippers. Hey, I’m going for comfort not sex appeal. Seriously though, it’s really a look that had to go.

I did good for a while, but lately as I’ve been running around like a mad woman getting back into the swing of things with work, I’ve noticed that I’m letting myself go a bit again. Is anyone available for a mommy makeover? I’m ready.

In the swing of things – Courtesy Elisabeth Röhm

Dye this hair, whack it off and give me some pretty new shoes. I need Tom Ford to get a hold of me, shake it up and help me go from 2001 to 2014. It’s hard to keep up, right ladies?

And despite our circumstances, we never want to say no to our kids!

Ron cast a look at me the other day as Easton and I came home with shopping bags from the GAP Kids like, “Really? Does she really need anything new?” The answer is yes! Forget you and me, Ron. We’re here to serve and protect! We’ll just wear our holey socks and college sweaters. I’m cool with that. Aren’t you?!!

On the other hand, it’s true I might need a few new things to update the ever-ticking clock. Not to mention he could use new eyeglasses. Maybe ones that aren’t crooked. Mind you, they used to look cool.

Golden Globes glam – Imeh Akpanudosen/Getty

The guys can relate too, although, it’s definitely the moms overspending on the kids! Hey look, it happens when you are tending to someone else more than to your own self-pride.

However, yes Ron, why do we walk around like eccentric people in ill-fitting clothing while our kid is sporting the latest everything?! What are we trying to prove? It’s just like a scene from Wisteria Lane. And darn it, I might need a wrecking crew to step in and help me start from scratch.

Send in the mommy rescue team to all my moms out there who need a little makeover, PEOPLE.com. It’s time for a revolution!

Honestly though, it has been a busy time as a mom. I’m getting my sea legs under me, what with juggling Easton’s needs and going back to work with more fervor than I have had since she was born. She and I are hanging in there.

Onstage with the American Hustle cast – we won Best Picture! – Kevork Djansezian/Getty

I remember before my mom passed away, she said to me, “Don’t quit acting. I know you want to be with your baby all the time, but they grow up so fast and then you’ll have to start all over again.” I feel like there was truth in that statement. I’m glad I always kept a toe in the biz.

Now that I’m immersing myself in work again like the days of old, we are as a family discovering what it’s like for Mom to be working more. Like Easton’s friends’ moms, I actually have a schedule these days. It’s been a bit bumpy, but overall Easton gets it; She is having a blast doing her own thing too, as long as I’m there most of the time. It’s doable!

I’m coming out of my muumuu now that Easton’s days are getting busier. She’s got a schedule of her own: what with school, activities and play dates. Suddenly I’m noticing myself again. It’s like, “Oh hi, you’re still here?!”

Little equestrian – Courtesy Elisabeth Röhm

Mom was right — you find that you are reacquainting yourself with yourself as your kids grow up. Now that Easton is finding her own identity, it is time for me to redefine my own. With this reinvention comes the recognition that although you love meeting everyone’s needs, that you might still have a few of your own.

Not to mention, you can’t go to a meeting in the rent-the-princess-runway look or your mommy get-up, so it might be time to put the credit card down when you want to buy your darlings their third pair of sneakers and find that it’s okay to invest in yourself too.

Well, I guess you could say Easton and I are on a path of discovery. And so time and again as we come back to ourselves; gently or not so gently we are reminded that we have a personality, dreams, needs and even a desire to be attractive and feel fresh again.

What a night – Emily Shur for PEOPLE

I can only brace myself for the next time this happens. Like when she’s actually REALLY too busy for me and I’m knocking at her door asking her to come out and talk. But, we’ll keep those wolves at bay for a while. Baby No. 2?

So, I say get out of those old shoes and sweatpants and give yourself some dancing space to be YOU.

Until next time,

– Elisabeth Röhm

More from Elisabeth’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Elisabeth Röhm’s Blog: Where a Love of Learning Can Lead
• Elisabeth Röhm’s Blog: When a Stranger Needs You
• Elisabeth Röhm’s Blog: Are Your Kids Zinging Yet?

Celebrity blogger Jenna von Oy is a new mama!

Best known for her roles as Six on Blossom and Stevie on The Parkers, von Oy is also a musician who has released two albums and is set to publish a book, The Betweeners.

von Oy, 36, wed Brad Bratcher on Oct. 10, 2010, and resides in Nashville with her husband and five dogs.

They welcomed their first child, daughter Gray Audrey, in May 2012. She is now 21 months old.

You can find her on Facebook and Twitter @JennavonOy, as well as posting on her weekly blog, The Cradle Chronicles.

In her latest blog, von Oy discusses Gray’s love of all things girly — and explains why she’s okay with self-expression (for now).

Like mama, like daughter – Courtesy Jenna von Oy

When I was about 10 years old, a little boy named Mikey* (*This name has been changed to protect the fashion “unconscious”) lived across the street. He was your typical 5-year-old it seemed, except for the fact that he was mildly obsessed with a pair of canary yellow rain boots.

No joke, I never saw the kid without them. It’s a 95-degree, scorcher of a summer day? Canary yellow rain boots. There’s two feet of snow, and the pond is covered with ice? Canary yellow rain boots. I recall feeling somewhat sorry for his mother who, I suspect, had visions of cross trainers, cowboy kicks, Nike high tops, and Buster Brown saddle shoes dancing in her head at night. A pair of Chuck Taylor’s would probably have made her downright drunk with enthusiasm!

But alas, there were only the aforementioned canary yellow rain boots.

I never quite understood Mikey’s fascination, but those galoshes made his world go ’round. I even overheard his mother mention that he would launch into hysterics if she didn’t let him sleep in them; temper tantrums ensued if she fought him on wearing them to school. (Which transpired every morning, by the way, because apparently he felt sneakers were the devil incarnate.)

Oh yes, and did I fail to mention he often paired those boots with his Batman cape? He was the best-dressed superhero on the block.

Anyway, I recall wondering why his mother bothered battling his favorite ensemble in the first place, since everybody knows you can’t argue logic with a 5-year-old. Heck, you can’t argue logic with some adults, never mind a kindergartener. Children don’t care that recess might not be as constructive … what kid preemptively thinks about the trials and tribulations of climbing a jungle gym in Wellingtons? (I can only imagine what an adventure dodgeball must have been!)

Regardless, I am reminded of this quirky little neighborhood anecdote, because of my daughter’s current obsession with hats … and legwarmers … and barrettes … and sunglasses. The list goes on. Yes, this month’s blog is about something totally frivolous: accessories.

Too cool for grocery shopping – Courtesy Jenna von Oy

I know, I know, parenting is rife with complex and meaningful things to discuss and contemplate, such as existentialism as it relates to breastfeeding, and the metaphysics of motherhood. (Don’t go rushing to look those subjects up on Wikipedia; I’m totally making them up.)

Nevertheless, sometimes it’s just nice to talk about the simple things in life … to take a break from the controversial “mommy war” woes, or our self-inflicted fears of inadequate parenting.

Every now and then, it’s a relief to have a shallow escape. It’s much like choosing to watch Pretty Woman (for the ten thousandth time), instead of that documentary on the hostile takeover of machines. Of course, having a 1-year old on my hands makes the idea of sitting through an entire movie of ANY kind highly impractical (if not laughable), but I think you catch my drift.

This blog post may not be nearly as thought-provoking as some of the others I’ve written, but I’d like to think it has its merits.

And now back to the academic nobility of accessories. So to speak.

My little Gray is a girly-girl all the way, which sometimes surprises me, given that she isn’t overly dainty. That said, she loves her bows, bracelets, tiaras, and tutus. If she were capable of it, she’d scale Mt. Everest — or at least her armoire — to retrieve a pair of sparkly sunglasses.

And you think I was a cap collector as a kid? Well, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, my friends! My daughter puts my hat loving to shame. There isn’t a tam she’d turn down, or a beret she’d balk at.

In fact, one evening, when she was in a bit of a foul mood thanks to teething miseries, she pointed to a particularly fancy fedora on my closet shelf. “Hat,” she whimpered through crocodile tears.

My husband retrieved it for her and she placed it on her own head. The waterworks immediately stopped. “More hat,” she said with a small smirk, and pointed to a winter knit that hung from a hook on our wall. Again, my husband took it down and handed it to her.

Tons of toppers – Courtesy Jenna von Oy

A moment later, once the requested brims were piled high on top of her head, we were looking at the most contented girl in the world; no tears were in sight, as she pranced around in her happy hats for the next several hours. Who needs bribery or “time-outs” when you have remedy by hat collection?

When I say my daughter “loves accessories,” I’m not sure you can truly appreciate the depth of that statement. I mean she won’t get out of the car without the perfect accoutrements. She requests pigtails and bows before grocery store outings. She steals bracelets from my closet, and drags out my most colorful shoes. She’d bring her scarves into the bathtub if I let her. (Alas, the line must be drawn somewhere, as rubber duckies do not require neckwear. At least as far as I know, anyway.)

My point is, Gray adores accessories in a way that is different from most toddlers. I often have mothers stop and marvel at how I “get her to keep sunglasses on.” Little do they know, that requires no effort on my part whatsoever. One woman recently commented, “Your daughter keeps her shades on? I can’t even get my kid to keep his pants on!” Here’s hoping her kid isn’t in his 20s.

Gray’s fondness happens to be for accessories, but I find it fascinating what other kids do (or don’t) latch onto as well. One of my Cradle Chronicles blog readers wrote to me in September, detailing her daughter’s obsession with wearing orange. (Orange is the new black, after all, right?) Apparently her sweet tot refuses to dress in any other color! And from what I can tell, that isn’t an anomaly.

On the other side of things, there are also the items children won’t touch with a 10-foot pole. I, for one, abhorred wearing jeans until I was well into my teens. I would sooner have sported a burlap sack to elementary school, than to have poured myself into a pair of acid-washed denim dungarees. What’s that, you say? You hated jeans? But jeans are a staple!! Crazy, right? (I also despised pizza at the time, so I was clearly a bit off-kilter.)

So far, Gray isn’t shunning any articles of clothing, but she certainly has her affinities. I’m often stunned by the number of opinions she asserts, in reference to her daily apparel. Who knew 21-month olds were so particular about which color socks to wear?

My baby is a fashion maven in the making — the littlest Project Runway protégé on the planet. And while I am very reluctant to encourage a material obsession with clothes (pun intended), I am a huge proponent of encouraging self-expression through one’s wardrobe. Clothing has always offered me the chance to convey my unique style and spirit, and it warms my heart to see Gray embracing the same methods.

Speaking of which …

Looking back, I’m terrified at some of the things I wore out in public when I was younger. Can we talk about the awful effect the ’80s had on my fashion sense?! (I suspect I’m not alone in that observation.) My mom was a brave woman to let me experience my freedom of expression in that way. In some cases, she was a brave woman to let me out of the house at all, but we’ll let that slide for now.

Rockin’ the roller skates – Courtesy Jenna von Oy

I hope I’ll be equally courageous in my parenting because I think motherhood is often about adjusting your way of thinking to fit your child’s personality. Please don’t misunderstand me here — I’m not saying you shouldn’t set crucial boundaries for your child; they aren’t meant to raise themselves.

The way I see it, it’s about bending without breaking, and setting my daughter on a positive path without sacrificing my own parenting convictions. It’s about letting Gray take some poetic license, without exceeding the ethical limitations I’ve set.

I acknowledge that those boundaries vary from parent to parent, but mine include letting my kid pick out some of her own outfit each day. (Within reason, of course!) It might surprise you to hear this, but I’m actually a relatively conservative mom. Yes, I have tattoos and I grew up in show business, but I was raised in a fairly traditional household, by parents that wholeheartedly promoted respect and courtesy.

I love that it takes all kinds to make the world, and I wouldn’t want it any other way, but my husband and I tend to take an “old-fashioned” approach to our parenting. And that certainly transfers over into what Gray wears … We want our daughter to be proud of what she puts on her body. Moreover, we want her to be proud of the body that wears it.

All of that said, I don’t care if she matches, or if her hair is askew (as is often the case), or if she wants to wear a pair of boy’s pants instead of a dress. Self-confidence should supersede all of those things, and if Gray feels good about her choices, I’m proud of that.

Sure, there will likely come a day when I’m forced to say, “No, you can’t wear that miniskirt to school,” or “I’m not okay with your midriff showing.” But all in due time.

For now, we’re just focusing on the accessories, and I’m content letting her choose her own adventure where those are concerned! I’d like to think her choices are assisting her in acquiring a sense of pride and accomplishment. No matter how insignificant it may seem in the whole scheme of things, she is still exercising her independence each time she selects her own belt or feathered hair clip. She is learning to appreciate the decision-making process, while brushing up on her knowledge of colors and clothing-related vocabulary.

Best of all, she is learning to be unique. She is learning to be her version of Gray. And that’s the only Gray there should be.

The accessory queen – Mimosa Arts Photography

Until next time …

– Jenna von Oy

More from Jenna’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: The World According to Gray
• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: A Big Thanks to the Little Guy
• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: An Ode to October and Our Wedding Day

My Family – Courtesy Amanda Beard

Thanks for welcoming our newest celebrity blogger, Amanda Beard!

The seven-time Olympic medalist first appeared on the sports scene at the 1996 Atlanta Games, winning her first gold in the medley relay and two silvers for the 100 and 200-meter breaststrokes — all at the age of 14.

Since then, the competitive swimmer scored a bronze medal at the 2000 Sydney Olympics, and her first individual gold medal along with two silvers at the 2004 Athens games.

Beard, 32, who is an Aqua Sphere-sponsored athlete, recently penned her memoir, In the Water They Can’t See You Cry.

She and her husband Sacha Brown married in May 2009 and are the parents of son Blaise Ray, 4, and daughter Doone Isla, 8 months.

Beard can be found online on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter @AmandaRayBeard.

Hi PEOPLE & friends!

Call me dramatic, but when you move a family 1,500 miles north, three extra days in a month make a huge difference. February has absolutely flown by!

It feels like it was just last weekend that I was driving to Seattle, diving into a new team and training regimen, and exploring a new state with my family. Time flies when you’re having fun — or being pulled in a hundred directions — right?

Blaise and friends – Courtesy Amanda Beard

Between getting our kids into new routines to help them settle in, and making time for ourselves and our family, February has, without a doubt, been a month of highs and lows, sleep deprivation and a lot of half-eaten meals for mom.

When life gets crazy, I sometimes find myself making mountains out of molehills — getting so caught up in the minutiae of life that I forget how small some problems really are.

Remember when I said that I was going to learn something new every day? Today, I’m going to re-learn one of the most important lessons in life: to focus on the amazing little things that bring me joy every day so that I stop turning molehills into mountains. A good attitude goes a long way, and there are plenty of real mountains in life; there’s no reason to create more!

Life gets crazy! – Courtesy Amanda Beard

To hold myself publicly accountable, I’d like to share a positive upswing for some parenting-induced molehills I’ve encountered this month:

Moving is stressful with kids, and Washington is rainy.
Upside: We are beyond happy with our move. Sacha and I both grew up close to the beach in California, and it’s just wonderful to be on the water again.

Blaise loves exploring a new place. We’ve done a ton of hiking, exploring the beach and all of its creatures, and relaxing at our family’s lake house. We’re not letting the colder weather keep us indoors — especially when we get a little snow and get to go sledding in my mom’s yard!

My daughter and my mom – Courtesy Amanda Beard

I miss staring at blue skies while I train indoors.
Upside: The weather never keeps me from working out anymore; no excuses! Ultimately, I love the change and the new environment. Mixing it up keeps training fresh and fun! Plus, when it comes to training, it’s really hard not to over analyze everything I do in the pool.

At some point I need to just allow myself to have fun and enjoy being active and healthy. I’m working on getting in shape enough to swim in a meet. Hopefully soon!

Being a mom-of-two means two sets of activities and twice the amount of things to do.
Upside: With both Blaise and Doone in swimming, and Blaise having school, other activities, and a social calendar, I have to juggle and balance more than ever and I’m learning a lot. But what can I say? I’m not getting rid of either of these cuties!

Kisses – Courtesy Amanda Beard

I have not achieved my weight loss goal yet.
Upside: Being healthy isn’t about a number on a scale; it’s how you feel, if you’re smiling, and how you’re fostering relationships with the amazing people in your life.

You would think that being a professional swimmer I would put losing weight on the top of my list. Obviously, I would love to say the weight just flew off of me, but the reality is that my family comes first and silly things like losing 10 pounds don’t seem as important at the end of the day. I’m not going to stress over what I think the “ideal body” is; it doesn’t exist. Everyone is meant to be different and that’s what makes us so beautiful!

Plus, I’ve created two amazing kiddos and if that means I carry some extra weight because of it, then oh well. I wouldn’t change anything. My priority is to set a good and healthy example for my kids and others, and eventually, if I keep working out and eating healthy, I will lose all the baby weight.

I have a lot on my plate.
Upside: I’m fortunate to not only train as an Aqua Sphere athlete, but also feel blessed that they continually source me for their projects. Whether it’s modeling the 2014 swimwear collection for their lookbook, or working in R&D on a set of tools geared to help athletes cross-train in the pool (launching next month — stay tuned!), staying engaged and interested in my work is paramount to my happiness.

How cute are these two? – Courtesy Amanda Beard

Wow! I truly feel better already. It’s so important to reflect in life to make sure we’re on the right track, so thanks, PEOPLE.com and friends, for supporting me here and letting me do that!

As a parent, it’s so easy to get wrapped up in the details and start making mountains out of molehills.

What have you faced lately, and how did you overcome it?

Cheers,

– Amanda Beard

More from Amanda’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Amanda Beard’s Blog: New Year’s Resolutions – Mom Edition
• Amanda Beard’s Blog: Diving into the Holidays and New Year
• Amanda Beard’s Blog: Full of Thanks

Please give a warm welcome back to our celebrity blogger, Elisa Donovan!

Best known for her roles as Amber in Clueless and Morgan on Sabrina, the Teenage Witch, Donovan stars in the ABC Family franchise The Dog Who Saved…. The next installment is available now for digital download and is out on DVD April 8. Donovan will also guest-star on Melissa & Joey on April 9. She is the narrator of the audiobook for Sheryl Sandberg’s best-seller, Lean In.

Donovan, 43, is also a writer and yogi. A recovered anorexic, she assists in counseling and supporting young women struggling with eating disorders.

She lives in San Francisco with her husband, Charlie Bigelow, and their 22-month-old daughter Scarlett Avery.

She can be found on Facebook, as well as Twitter and Instagram @RedDonovan.

Niall David Photography

Guess what? It’s MARCH. You know what that means? It means that not only have the holidays been over for three months, but we are about to be one quarter of the way into 2014.

For the record … (I realize that I have used the term “for the record” in previous blogs, and therefore that makes me a person who uses clichés and easily digestible phrases like, “For the record.” But, in my defense (See? I can’t stop), this is merely a disclaimer in an attempt to hopefully soothe everyone into being on my side.)

SO.

For the record, I had intended to write a blog back in December about holiday travel. Because nothing says “HAPPY HOLIDAYS!” like a cross-country flight with an 18-month-old!

Just kidding.

Nothing says, “I NEED A COCKTAIL THE SIZE OF A SMALL CAR” like a cross-country flight with an 18-month-old. If you happened to have the misfortune of being on flight #___ on _________ Airlines, traveling from Raleigh-Durham to San Francisco the Tuesday after Thanksgiving — you have my deepest apologies. And I promise, if we ever meet in person, I will buy you the Prius-sized cocktail of your choice.

Oh, and another thing for the record: that huge diaper bag full of crap that I meticulously prepared with all sorts of new treats and gadgets meant to distract/feed/entertain/mesmerize/outsmart my child for the six hours I would be airborne? A total waste of space.

Morning dancing with banana – Courtesy Elisa Donovan

For some inexplicable, yet extremely less-than-fortuitous reason, Scarlett had slept a maximum of two hours the night before; which meant that I hadn’t slept at all. So by the time we boarded that plane at 11 a.m., we were both primed and ready for legendary meltdowns.

Before we even reached cruising altitude, things had escalated to such a pitch that I’m pretty sure I now know FAA protocol for treating passengers that are considered to be lunatics and potential dangers to themselves and those around them. That protocol involves greeting the suspect with a huge smile and a soft cooing kindness, all the while giving a silent secret signal that “the woman in 12D is a definite threat to everyone’s safety … she’s gonna’ blow!!”

The head stewardess (whom I will call … “Margo,” not to protect her identity, but because I was so delirious that I never actually got her name), kneeled down next to me and with a gigantic, circus-sized smile on her face, very calmly and evenly whispered, “Hi Ms. Donovan! I’d like to introduce you to Judy,” gesturing towards an older woman sitting across the aisle from me. “Judy is a grandmother of three, and she would LOVE to help you with little Scarlett!”

Storytime snuggles – Courtesy Elisa Donovan

My initial wonder at how she could possibly have known Scarlett’s name, quickly turned to dismay when I realized that Margo had actually taken it upon herself to look at the passenger dossier and learn my name, my kid’s name and the names of the people in the surrounding areas, before approaching me. (I imagine in the protocol handbook, no. 1 is: Call the psycho by name. This will disorient them and make them feel personally connected to you, therefore lowering the risk of violence.)

I know that you think I’m exaggerating, and trust me, I truly wish I was, but if you saw me holding my screeching and squirming child, whilst myself inconsolably rocking and weeping from exhaustion, you would have been at once grateful for your own sanity and terribly concerned by my obvious lack of it.

These are the situations when, as a parent you find yourself doing things that, heretofore, you would NEVER have considered appropriate, rational, healthy or safe.

At one point later in the flight, during a very brief reprieve from her wailing and flailing, Scarlett grabbed a wipe out of my hand and started “cleaning” the carpeted floor in the aisle. This seemed a terrific and harmless distraction by my estimation, so I let her keep scrubbing. But then she took the wipe that she had been scouring the decades-tread upon carpet with, and started to rub her face with it — just really get right on into the skin of her cheeks — and then, triumphantly, she put it in her mouth.

I know.

Rather than consider the immeasurable list of germs that were definitely now scurrying down her throat and embedding themselves into her pores, I looked at my neighbor and simply said, “It’s good for the immune system.”

Niall David Photography

Here’s my point: I began writing that piece back in early December …

Then suddenly it was January.

And my next plan was to write a blog about separating and going to work, now that Scarlett is at the age where she is totally aware of my departing and arriving. I planned to write about how much harder it is now because she can express her feelings; and when I’m away from her I have that sensation even stronger in my body that something is not right, something is missing. Where is my heart? My lungs? My brain??

How even when I could be/should be embracing my time away and enjoying doing the work I love, I just find myself checking my text messages for the latest picture of Scarlett doing some mundane thing that, to me, is utterly and irrefutably awesome.

When I went down to L.A. to shoot an episode of Melissa & Joey (it airs April 9 on ABC Family, so you better watch it!) and I was only gone for a few days, I literally leapt off the airplane when I got home and couldn’t stop smelling Scarlett’s face. So creepy, I know.

Hockney at the De Young – Courtesy Elisa Donovan

And then it was February.

And I thought, ‘No! I have to write about these tantrums that Scarlett has started to have, now that she’s on the brink of turning two, and about how fast she is growing up.’ How when I went back down to L.A. for the first couple weeks of February (partly to record the new edition of Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In: For Graduates — buy it!), it seemed like Scarlett practically became a teenager before my eyes in the daily photos.

When Charlie and Scarlett arrived in L.A. to join me, I stood waiting in the street in front of the house (literally, I stood in the middle of the street at dusk) and half expected her to get out of the car, slam the door and say, “WHATEVER Mom, you TOTALLY don’t get it AT ALL!!”

And that was a week ago.

Which brings us to March, and the topic of this blog. TIME. Unless your child is having an epic meltdown in public — perhaps on an airplane! — at which point time seems to actually stop, and laboriously crawl by at the pace of an octogenarian tortoise (making you falsely believe that you will have eons of time to write a blog about how life-altering and upsetting the public meltdown is for you), unless you’re in the midst of that, time just soars by at an alarming and uncatchable pace.

It’s a slippery swindler, a tricky operator. There is never enough of it and it goes by way too fast.

Niall David Photography

Which brings me to another, and hopefully my final, cliché: Where does the time go?

If I discover the answer to that question, I will be sure to let you know. But until then, I will continue to be one of those crazy moms running around like a lunatic, always feeling just a little disheveled, just a little behind the eight ball, and just a little nuts … and I guess I have to be okay with that.

– Elisa Donovan

More from Elisa’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Elisa Donovan’s Blog: Crazy Is Not a Four Letter Word
• Elisa Donovan’s Blog: Parenting Is Not an Elective Sport
• Elisa Donovan’s Blog: The Waste of Talking About Our Waists

Celebrity blogger Jenna von Oy is a new mama!

Best known for her roles as Six on Blossom and Stevie on The Parkers, von Oy is also a musician who has released two albums and is set to publish a book, The Betweeners.

von Oy, 36, wed Brad Bratcher on Oct. 10, 2010, and resides in Nashville with her husband and five dogs.

They welcomed their first child, daughter Gray Audrey, in May 2012. She is now 22 months old.

You can find her on Facebook and Twitter @JennavonOy, as well as posting on her weekly blog, The Cradle Chronicles.

In her latest blog, von Oy discusses Gray’s recent love bite — and why she’s not ready to move to Transylvania just yet.

Gray and Me – Courtesy Jenna von Oy

Dusk had descended upon our quiet house and the night was rapidly taking its place. The moon ominously hung in a starless sky, prompting an eerie sense of foreboding and casting a faint glow on the neighboring rooftops. A tempestuous wind danced leaves across the pavement, sending them skittering down the street like gangs of rowdy hooligans. It swayed broken tree limbs to its soundless and haunting melody, and left behind a frosty chill that stung like barbed wire.

I sat on my couch and pulled my bathrobe up over my shoulders, as the tapping of winter branches against the windowpane sent shivers down my spine.

But that wasn’t what made my skin prickle.

The movement came from my left and without warning, and I cried out as I caught a sudden flash of bared teeth. She was headed straight for me, and I was frozen in place. I had prepared myself for this eventuality, but no amount of mental rehearsal could overcome the sheer surprise of it all. There wasn’t enough time to fend off the attack. Her fangs sank into my flesh, piercing my pant leg and sending a fiery pain through my senses. The initiation had begun.

C’mon, admit it, I had you there for a second. It sounds like I stole an excerpt from some absurdly cheesy and ghoulish novel, right? Believe it or not, while somewhat embellished for the sake of fun and flair, that story is mostly true. And it happened to me!!

Take a deep breath, ladies and gentlemen, and don’t let your imaginations run wild. We aren’t headed for the zombie apocalypse or world domination by vampire. You see, the story-prompting bite came courtesy of my 22-month old daughter (aka the Nosferatu wannabe), and the initiation was one that I imagine has caught many a parent unaware.

Yes, my sweet little Gray decided to demonstrate her frustration one evening by putting her brand new (not to mention exceedingly sharp) canines to good use. On my leg.

In that very unexpected moment, her stunt had me reeling. Where did I go wrong? Should I have refrained from reading Twilight while Gray was in the womb? Should we start perusing the real estate market in Transylvania? I hear property is cheap over there.

Clearly, I jest. I realize it isn’t some epic parenting failure that lead to this scenario and, more importantly, I don’t feel Gray has done anything wrong. (Though try telling that to my leg!) I’m not suggesting I sanction biting — my husband and I do our best to teach our daughter to be loving, kind, respectful and gentle. But social graces aren’t necessarily built in at birth; sometimes they come from hands on learning. Or, in this case, “teeth-on” learning.

Aside from the substantial role teething played in Gray’s little taste test (I wasn’t kidding when I’ve mentioned her being a foodie!), I know she is trying things on for size. My daughter is testing the waters, gauging our reactions, and seeing how far the envelope can be pushed. She’s almost two, after all, and two-year-olds are notorious for pushing boundaries and parenting buttons!

Gray is finding her own limitations, as well as ours. And apparently, this included spontaneously chomping down on the beefiest section of my thigh. Which for the record — and thankfully — hasn’t happened since.

I understand biting is a fairly typical phase for kids Gray’s age to go through. The same goes for hitting, pushing, screaming, throwing miscellaneous household items, kicking, and any other adventurous form of self-expression that a tiny human might experiment with. (And that might render their parents the pariahs of the preschool community, if not nipped in the bud!)

I generally think these spectacular feats of derring-do are attempted out of curiosity and a desire to be better understood. And also, because I imagine teething really sucks. Pun intended. Alas, inquiring two-year-old minds are nothing if not spirited and headstrong, right?

I like that Gray keeps us on our toes, and that she’s eager to explore new ways of communicating — even if that means I might need to invest in full body padding, or tote around garlic and holy water from time to time. (Look out, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, there’s a new act in town!) It’s all part of our parenting journey and her learning process.

If you’re wondering how I responded to the ambush, I’ll admit I involuntarily shouted “OUCH!” It may have been slightly louder and more enthusiastic than I would have liked, given my disorientation, but it did the trick. It startled Gray into retreating. (Back away from the leg, and keep your teeth where I can see ‘em!)

I actually think the fact that she hurt me caused her more pain than it did me. She immediately burst into tears. I took a deep breath, firmly but lovingly told her, “Please don’t bite, that really hurt Mommy.” Then I changed the subject to get her mind off of it. Ah, the art of distraction.

I certainly don’t want this blog post to make you think I take my parenting responsibilities lightly, or that I view serial biting as a trivial issue … that’s a different story altogether. I’ve had friends whose children were fixated on biting for an extended period of time, and it was no laughing matter. It was baffling, frustrating, alarming and alienating for everyone involved. Not to mention painful!

During a lunch date a few years ago, one of my friends pulled back her blouse sleeve to reveal an arm peppered with black and blue bite marks, courtesy of her son. It looked like piranhas had been feasting. So I certainly take that side of it seriously! I’m only poking fun at my own experience, because it’s mine to laugh at.

In my case, laughter isn’t terribly hard to come by, since it was such a brief encounter of the nipping kind. I don’t anticipate my daughter entering the pro-biting circuit any time soon, and I know the action wasn’t intentionally malicious. I don’t think the occurrence denotes aggressive tendencies, or abnormal development, or even that my child is channeling Dracula.

It’s a reminder (albeit a somewhat physically unpleasant one) that my kid is just that — a kid. Not that I’ll forget that fact any time soon, given the number of toys I step on daily, or the stash of Cheerios currently in my purse!

Despite her fairly impressive ability to communicate, Gray doesn’t always have the vocabulary to explain her feelings with words alone. This means she sometimes resorts to other ways of getting her point across. I’ll admit words and hand gestures are preferable, but every now and then I suppose there may be a more “unique” approach that surfaces. This was one of those times.

In the moment it happened, my goal was to discourage the biting, without inadvertently causing Gray to focus on the attention it triggered. And, of course, I’m keeping an eye out to make sure she isn’t attempting her “love bites” on anyone else!

Laughter Is the Best Medicine – Courtesy Jenna von Oy

As long as Gray isn’t gnawing on her friends at daycare, I’m not going to worry too much about it.

Finding constructive ways to let our children know their behavior is inappropriate, without putting too much emphasis on an act we hope they don’t repeat, can be a curious little balancing act, can’t it?

That said, I couldn’t ignore the opportunity to joke about it with all of you. The vampire references are just WAY too amusing to pass up!

It’s a comfort to be able to share experiences that might seem like a mountain when they transpire, and a molehill in retrospect.

It’s nice to know some of you have gone through something similar as well. Please feel free to share your own funny experiences in the comments section below. I love hearing from all of you …

Until next time …

– Jenna von Oy

More from Jenna’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: My Daughter the Accessory Queen
• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: The World According to Gray
• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: A Big Thanks to the Little Guy

Please give a warm welcome to our newest celebrity blogger, Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett!

The reality star, who first gained popularity on Girls Next Door, has been on television for nine years and is the author of Being Kendra: Cribs, Cocktails and Getting My Sexy Back.

Wilkinson-Baskett, 28, now stars with her family, including husband Hank Baskett and their 4-year-old son Hank IV, on Kendra On Topon WE tv.

The couple, married since 2009, will welcome their second child — a girl! — in late May.

You can find her on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter @KendraWilkinson.

Courtesy Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

Hi everyone! I am so excited to be the newest PEOPLE.com mommy blogger. I love being a mother, and Hank and I are so excited to welcome a little girl to the Baskett family.

I’m in my third trimester and am feeling every little bit of it — I’m round, tired, grouchy, smelly and horny! There are so many things about this pregnancy and I’ve tried to capture them, and how I’m coping with everything, in today’s post.

In the beginning, my emotions were high — no surprise there, right? And, like most pregnant women, various moments and emotions from childhood have randomly popped up, especially now since the due date is quickly approaching. Luckily for me though, my childhood was amazing and helped to mold me into the strong, independent, confident woman that I am today.

While I didn’t have a father around, I did have — and what I want my children to both experience — the ability to explore, experiment and enjoy life as a kid.

Courtesy Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

People keep asking me if I’m excited to have a “princess” and I usually respond with, “I’d rather have my girl be a superhero than a princess.”

I believe making her think she is a princess is unrealistic and sets up a fantasy world. I want her to live and learn as I did — outside, playing in dirt and kicking a ball around.

Now, if she likes movies about princesses, that’s different because I like them, too! (Shout out: Frozen is awesome!)

If I’m most nervous about anything for her, it’s how early societal rules will influence her — everything from how and when girls are supposed to dress, talk, appear, etc. I want her to live her life like a child and in the end, be a confident, powerful woman … But of course, she should always be treated like a princess! LOL.

I want our kids to know how to protect themselves and to look out for others. Given the news we all read or hear about, it’s actually made me a stronger parent — I’m not a “helicopter parent,” but I am very aware of local and world events and want to teach them what’s right and wrong.

And, no, I don’t mean that they should go around picking fights. I want them to have big hearts, caring hearts, but I don’t want them leaving the house without them knowing how to fight. I want them to have places where they feel safe. We are strong supporters of the Second Amendment, particularly now that we are having a daughter. LOL!

Courtesy Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

Maintaining a healthy body is my number one goal with this pregnancy since I understand what can happen if you eat like crap.

I gained about 60 pounds when I was preggers with Lil Hank and I’m desperately trying not to do the same with our daughter.

I also have bad hypothyroidism so I have to be careful this time around. I’ve tried to be really active and I’ve been walking and swimming A LOT.

A couple of weeks ago, I attempted to “play” tennis and I went to run for the ball — for a quick second my mind forgot I was pregnant. My body was like, “What in the world?!”

Needless to say, I think I’m done with tennis for a while.

My food choices are pretty consistent for each meal. I have a high fiber meal in the morning so I can relieve myself (LOL) and get my metabolism started.

About two hours later, I’ll have another breakfast — scrambled eggs and avocado or I’ll have one of my smoothies that I’ve taught myself to make. We make organic frozen fruit mixed with different types of greens … we’re smoothie pros!

Then for lunch, I’ll make a lettuce and avocado salad at home so I can control how much of what I put in it with a low sodium soup. For a snack, I usually have veggies, trail mix, a granola bar or some hummus and pita chips. And for dinner, I actually cook!

I’ve never cooked in my life until now. I learned to cook because I want to know about the food and the ingredients going into my family’s bodies. I’m learning new dishes and so far the boys like them. It’s all about organic food and ensuring the family has balanced meals. And, I’m not going lie, desserts have become a frequent (and favorite) item on the menu!

Courtesy Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

Unfortunately, while I’m eating all this healthy food, the only thing I can’t control are the smelly and loud gas noises coming from my body!

I honestly could not have made it to this point in the pregnancy feeling as good as I do without Hank. He has been an amazing and supportive husband.

He is a hands-on-dad with Lil Hank — taking one for the team to help me relax as much as I can. He treats me so well and makes me feel beautiful.

BUT the sex is lacking this pregnancy. Newsflash — I’m a very sexual creature. I love my man and sex, but sometimes I feel Hank is not attracted to me.

A big emotional tornado swirls in my head, BUT then he tells me that I complain about this pain or that pain every five minutes, (especially since the baby is sitting really low and I feel like she’s breaking and crushing things down there) so why would he want to touch me?!

And when I cough, I either fart, pee or cramp. Okay, okay. He’s got me there and it makes perfect sense.

All that said, I still catch him staring at me or taking pics and telling me how beautiful I am pregnant or not … so sweet.

By nature, I love to be comfortable. So when I’m not on a red carpet, on a date with Hank or at a night out with friends, I’m wearing one of Hank’s shirts and a pair of sweats.

When I do go out though, I make sure I embrace the bump and don’t shy away from my personal style. I want to show the bump, and not just look like I’ve disguised it with a sparkly, fabric tent.

Courtesy Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

Being able to wear form-fitting outfits with color helps with my bump and helps to promote the pregnancy glow.

The one new thing I discovered about myself is that I hate my boobs. They’re annoying. They’re in my way. They’re bigger. I am seriously contemplating taking them down a size after pregnancy!

With my first child, we tried to have the baby naturally and unfortunately, it didn’t happen. After about 30 hours of labor — actually, nothing happening — I had to have a C-section.

So, we are having a scheduled C-section for baby number two — no more hours than necessary will be spent in the hospital this time.

Can you tell I’m definitely on edge and controlling? I’m officially in my nesting stage.

There’s so much more to write and share, but it’s time to close this first blog. Thanks for stopping to read it.

More blog posts coming soon …

Cheers!

– Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

Ariel at Elliotte’s party – Courtesy Marla Sokoloff

A warm welcome back to our celebrity blogger Marla Sokoloff!

Since audiences first got to know her at age 12 as Gia on Full House, Sokoloff has had many memorable TV roles — Jody on Party of Five, Lucy on The Practice, Claire on Desperate Housewives — as well as turns on the big screen in Whatever It Takes, Dude, Where’s My Car? and Sugar & Spice.

Sokoloff, 33, currently plays Dani on ABC Family’s The Fosters.

She wed her husband, music composer Alec Puro, in November 2009 and the couple — plus pup Coco Puro — make their home in Los Angeles.

You can find Sokoloff, now mom to 2-year-old daughter Elliotte Anne, on Twitter and Instagram.

Hello everyone,

Sorry for being M.I.A. but life has been a wee bit busy over here!

Miss Elliotte turned two last month (OMG!) and I have been working on ABC Family’s The Fosters. I’m still searching for the perfect balance of being a kick-butt mom mixed with a busy-ish working mom. Like I said in my last entry, I’m still searching. One always seems to feel compromised.

The good news is, both are so incredibly fulfilling that I’m just doing my best to go with the flow. Some days I find myself wondering how anything got done!

For Elliotte’s second birthday, she told me she wanted a princess party with Ariel, Elsa, Anna and her best friends. Not sure where this princess obsession came from, but let me tell you, it’s serious.

Elsa and Anna were super busy — obviously — but Ariel stopped by to say hello to the birthday girl and Elliotte even had the nerve to ask her to change her diaper. (I could tell by the look on young Ariel’s face that she didn’t have kids, so I spared her the requested torture.)

Now that my little girl is 2, I find myself chuckling a lot. Mainly I’m laughing because my daughter is one funny little lady, but the thing that makes me laugh the most is the laughing I do at myself on a daily basis.

These laughs aren’t belly laughs or ones that put me in complete hysterics … they are the kind of laughs that only I can hear. It’s that silly little voice that says, “I told you so.”

With my mom and grandma – Heather Bear Photography

Who is that voice? Is it my mother? Friends who became moms before me? Or is it just the voice of a mom who has lightened up her act a bit? I think it’s safe to say that I’m a little less stressed in the hysterical mom department.

(Author’s note: if you ask my mother to confirm or deny the above statement, she will most likely say that nothing has changed and I’m still a crazy neurotic mommy. Love you, Mom!)

I’m the first to admit, I was off the rails when Elliotte was born. Before stepping foot in my house, I would give you a nice bath in hand sanitizer. If the fruit you were serving wasn’t organic, you would definitely be hearing about it. If you even thought about coming near my kid with a stuffy nose, you were dead to me. (Because we all know you don’t really have “allergies.”)

Here we are two years later and all of those things still irk me a bit, but I’m about 80 percent (okay … 72 percent) better. Time was the rehab I needed to see that at the end of the day, she’s going to be okay.

We all made it out of infancy and toddlerhood just fine drinking from our BPA-laden cups. (Although it’s very nice to know that we now have other options!)

Due to the heath problems Ellie had when she was born, I think it made me (and my equally neurotic but unbelievably sweet husband) hypersensitive on every level about every single thing. Now I just think — if we made it through that, we can get through anything.

New Year’s Eve – Courtesy Marla Sokoloff

To all of the soon-to-be parents out there or ones that are in the throes of insanity — I decided to write myself a letter that I wish I would have read as I wiped down every high chair in the greater Los Angeles area. Or as I judged every parent’s child-raising choices and swore I would never be like them.

Clearly my judgments and hopes for my family were the expectations of an inexperienced parent who didn’t know … well … anything.

Dear My Childless Judgmental Self,

I know you are rolling your eyes right now. Especially if you are at a restaurant and there are children screaming or throwing food in your direction.

I know that you are frustrated and annoyed that you are sitting next to a fussy baby on an airplane or at your wits’ end over the child who is kicking the back of your seat. It seems like their parents aren’t doing “enough” to control them, and that is terribly confusing to you.

One day you will understand early morning frustrations and temper tantrum marathons that occur with most children, so you will know the feeling of not being able to “control your child.” You will know it well and some days it will leave you in tears.

I wish you knew the helplessness that every mother feels as her child is doing anything and everything to attract unwanted attention. She doesn’t like it and believe me, she also wishes her kid would stop screaming.

She has tried every trick in the book (including the shunned upon bribe — gasp!) to get her little one to calm down. She has failed miserably and doesn’t need your stink eye on top of that headache. This is not the first temper tantrum she has dealt with today. She’s tired and broken down, so cut her some slack.

I know you think the kids menu is filled with junk and that your healthy kid will be eating quinoa and veggies exclusively. But guess what? Your healthy kid wants grilled cheese for every meal — and quinoa equals starvation — so the kids menu will be your saving grace for meals out.

You say that sugar-filled fruit juice will never enter your child’s bloodstream or that cupcakes that aren’t gluten/sugar/flavor-free are out of the question … but just you wait until you enter the birthday party circuit.

You can try to pry that juice box out of your screaming child’s sticky little hands, but you will never win. Ever. Seriously.

The devil wears frosting – Courtesy Marla Sokoloff

Juice – never say never! – Heather Bear Photography

It’s super cute that you don’t think you will let your kids watch television or use an iPad. Seriously, it’s adorable. Cut to you having the flu and no one is available to watch your daughter besides Dora the Explorer.

You know that 2-year-old running through the park without their shoes on? Before you mumble to yourself in judgment, “Why doesn’t that mother put some shoes on that kid?!” just know that’s YOUR kid.

While we’re on the subject of shoes, don’t waste your money buying those cute outfits either.

I’m writing you from the future to let you know that your little princess has worn her Ariel pajamas everywhere for the past week. Complete with bright blue Nikes. Some battles are just not worth the fight.

Beloved Ariel PJs – Courtesy Marla Sokoloff

Anna PJs and the Nikes – Courtesy Marla Sokoloff

I’ve saved my very favorite thing for last. You ready for this one young lady? All of those annoying phrases and threats your mother used to say that you promised and swore you would never EVER say? You say ALL of them. Every single one.

You count to three. You give time outs. You looks could kill. In a few more years you will most likely say, “I don’t care if all the other kids are doing it …” Get ready. You even wipe your daughter’s snot with your shirt.

It’s a dirty job, but it’s the most rewarding, incredible job you’ve ever had and it only gets better as the days pass by.

As you’ve been told a million times before, they pass by very quickly so even on the days that you aren’t exactly enjoying it and are counting down the seconds until bedtime, try your very hardest to not get frustrated.

You will leave a million restaurants, regret every plane ride, and count to 10 on a regular basis — but this is all part of the wild ride and it’s the most amazing journey.

So PEOPLE.com, what are some things you do with your kids that you SWORE you would never do? iPad? TV? Junk food? Co-sleeping? No judgments here! Would love to hear and honestly, feel better about my own parenting skills.

Xo,

– Marla Less Judgmental, Way More Understanding Sokoloff

P.S. Don’t forget to send me Tweets @marlasok or leave a comment below — love hearing from you!

More from Marla’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Marla Sokoloff’s Blog: Searching for the Mommy Guilt Handbook
• Marla Sokoloff’s Blog: Chatting with Rachael Leigh Cook
• Marla Sokoloff’s Blog: No … I Really Mean It

Please give a warm welcome to our new celebrity blogger, the hilarious Majandra Delfino!

Best known for playing Maria DeLuca in the hit series Roswell, the actress now stars in CBS’s new show Friends with Better Lives, premiering Monday at 9 p.m. on CBS.

In March 2011, Delfino, 33, and About a Boy‘s David Walton were married in Miami.

They are now parents to daughter Cecilia Delphine, 21 months, and son Louis Augustus, 4 months.

Delfino can be found on Twitter @MajandraD.

William Burri

Of course, as it happens with most, when I was first asked to do a baby blog I vacillated from feeling like I had nothing to write about to feeling like I had so much to say. I think that this is what sums up motherhood the best — being torn from one extreme to the other ALL THE DARN TIME!

So get ready because that’s going to be the theme of my blogs in one way or the other. You’ve been warned!

First, let me introduce myself. My name is Majandra Delfino. I was on a beautiful show many years ago called Roswell where I played a spicy teen in love with a handsome alien. At the time I was a spicy teen myself, in love with boys that might as well have been from other planets.

Now, I am on a show called Friends with Better Lives, where I play a mother of two who is married to the love of her life and lives in a sweet Los Angeles suburb. And guess what I’m up to these days? I’m a mother of two, married to the love of my life in a sweet Los Angeles suburb.

My husband David Walton is on a show called About a Boy – and we had a boy-themed year ourselves when he filmed it. The similarities are just adorable. (Disclaimer: the play on words of the title About a Boy could also be in reference to my husband’s character … which could possibly maybe be true in my real life as well?? That’s all I’m going to say on that, m’kay?)

My show hilariously covers all the pitfalls and inconsistencies we young parents encounter on a daily basis. “I love my kid, she’s an angel! Oh my God, I want to kill her, she’s the live version of Chucky!” But in my real life, sometimes these contradicting incidents aren’t worthy of a laugh track or maybe they are — but definitely at my expense.

At the end of the day though, the journey of parenthood truly begins the first moment you see that ol’ pregnancy stick you’ve peed on since your paranoid 20s give you a very different result: positive.

Sugar, you are having a baby!

And so began my husband and I’s journey or as I like to call it, “Hi! I’m a private person, but sure complete strangers, come up to me every five seconds and tell me your thoughts on pregnancy!”

From the moment your belly pops (which for me was two seconds after the “positive” pee experience — please see above), you become what I can only guess most people consider “public domain.” That means everyone and I mean EVERYONE has something to say (and feels they MUST say) about how you look, what you’re having, how you’re going to deliver it and then right back to how you look. And what I learned almost every time is that people (even women) are still super down on women …

Super heavy topic right? Guess what, you’re going to be raising another human being. Everything is heavy now.

Let me explain what led to this fantastic realization. When pregnant with my first child, I was incredibly sick and incredibly stressed, trying to renovate my bachelorette-style apartment into a family-friendly dwelling.

Needless to say, there were no visits to Krispy Kreme for a personal bakers dozen or a lovely stroll at the Grove with a giant size Häagen-Dazs malt. I was on the go go go and not a lot of things seemed appetizing on the way. As a result, my belly got huge but the rest of my body stayed the same. And that moment right there is when the woman-bashing began.

How, you ask? It came in the innocent shape of the following comment: “Oh my God, you look so beautiful pregnant!!!! Let me guess, you must be having a boy.”

There it is. A seemingly innocent comment right? But after the 100th time, it really does start to make you wonder. Why would we assume having another girl inside ourselves would make us ugly??

Oh I know! People explained it to me. Get ready. It’s because “girls rob you of your beauty.” WHAT????? Or my personal favorite, the ever so scientific, “It’s the hormones — too much estrogen.” Cool … cuz more testosterone is a real beauty enhancer.

Here’s the truth, we have all kinds of hormones we aren’t used to when we’re pregnant (please see “I was super sick” situation above) and how we look or what our hair does or how we gain weight or where we gain weight can have absolutely nothing to do with it.

I felt like crap, but I supposedly looked good. Who the hell knows why. I certainly can’t tell you why. I can, however, tell you this — I was having a girl.

Still, everywhere I went, people were so adamant that it must be a boy.

This was a typical day for me: random guy at Home Depot: “Boy?” Lady selling over-priced fabric: “You look stunning! You’ve got a little boy in there!” Woman picking out molding: “Oh my God, your legs are tiny! Can’t be a girl, they give you fat in all the wrong places.” Russian guy at paint store: “Let me guess, boy? No?? Oh … but you’re Russian, yes?”

It was crazy. Towards the end of my pregnancy it got so nuts, people were yelling “Boy!” at me from across the street. It was terrifying! And weird. But it was so frequent and so intense, my husband and I really started to question whether there really was a girl in there — or just a boy with a very, very unfortunate sized penis.

Regardless, the whole thing got me thinking. What the hell are we saying with that? Are we still down on women to that extent?? We really think having a girl inside us makes us look bad?! That’s just another s—– way of saying we’re something bad … like all the other things we throw a pinch of s——– into describing perfectly normal traits pertaining to girls: bossy, naggy, emasculating and now this doozy!

I always felt like at this point, in our generation, the worst thing you could do for women was talk about the suffering of women. That the only way to achieve equality is to grab it by the balls (ovaries?) and not let them see you coming — and frankly I thought we were doing pretty well so far doing just that. I never in my days thought I’d be making my first blog about something like this.

Strangely enough, during this “it-must-be-a-boy-turns-out-it-was-a-girl-oh-maybe-girls-are-actually-awesome” pregnancy, I had just gotten embroiled in a ridiculous encounter with a woman complaining that her books were never reviewed with the same respect her male contemporaries received. Problem was, her idea of who her male contemporaries were was extremely out of touch. She wrote light novels bordering on shallow and the said contemporaries she spoke of will probably go down as the Steinbecks of our time — and rightfully so, these male authors are insanely talented.

Did she really think she was their equal?? Or was she piggy-backing on something so important as female equality so as to skip a few steps (a.k.a. write better books) to be on their level? The twist though, was that this same woman was incredibly mean to people who didn’t possess her exact body type. She would literally shut someone out and say terrible things about them if they didn’t fit her idea of the proper representation of a woman’s body. How awful is that?

But that all fell in line perfectly with everything I was going through with all these public encounters. Everyone has these set ideas for women — from one extreme to the next — and it sucks. When women should just be focusing on doing what they want to do and doing it well, not wasting their time justifying every aspect of it. I was literally spending my days defending my soon-to-be daughter’s effect on me to everyone I met.

Still, complaining about it gets us nowhere I suppose and I am doing that very thing right here. But I had to share. I had to make this first blog about that should anyone else be experiencing the same head-scratcher I did. I was giving birth to a baby girl with these s—– undertones in our world. The meaning of women’s rights is still all completely jumbled up. From the crazy author lady to the random strangers on the street. It was all such a weird, confused and unnecessary message.

And fine, it’s already there in day-to-day stuff — but when you’re pregnant? We’re tired! Leave us alone! And if you have to talk to us, must you choose a topic that infuses such a s—– message about us to us? And it wasn’t just me — my friend, Meredith Quill, has a website dedicated to the dumb things people say to women when they’re pregnant. Turns out my experience with the girl put-down is very normal. But why?!

I don’t know. I really don’t know.

What I do know is this. After all the “boy” guesses and all those conversations, I gave birth to a healthy 9 lb. girl. No penis. No secret dude in there the whole time. A girl. A girl who made me look like a very cute pregnant woman. A little girl who put those dumb old wives’ theories to rest.

Fast forward to eight months later. I was pregnant again. Having known with the first pregnancy, we decided to not find out the sex with our second. So, blissfully along I went with my second pregnancy not knowing a darn thing about whether there was a girl or a boy in there.

But guess what? It was the same. I still didn’t gain weight in my ass, and I still looked the same way I did the first time. Everywhere I went people would be so sweet and tell me I looked beautiful (and of course that it must be a boy because girls make you look bad and oh my God, my jeans were still tiny!).

So, with that, I knew what I was having. I was the exception to the rule and girls made me “look pretty” — and you know what, I felt kind of badass knowing that. So on with the girl names I went and on with ignoring the barrage of comments.

Didn’t my first pregnancy teach me anything? I was the opposite, all you a-holes! The girl hormone was on my side!!

So, on Nov. 10, armed with that almost scientific insight, I gave birth to my son, Louis Augustus.

Courtesy Majandra Delfino

– Majandra Delfino

Thanks for welcoming one of our new celebrity bloggers, the hilarious Majandra Delfino!

Best known for playing Maria DeLuca in the hit series Roswell, the actress now stars in CBS’s new show Friends with Better Lives, airing Monday nights on CBS.

In March 2011, Delfino, 33, and About a Boy‘s David Walton were married in Miami.

They are now parents to daughter Cecilia Delphine, 22 months, and son Louis Augustus, 5 months.

Delfino can be found on Twitter @MajandraD.

Zoe, Brooklyn and me out to dinner just before Louis was born. My girls brought me food from this restaurant (my favorite) at the hospital when I was recovering. They are the best friends ever. – Courtesy Majandra Delfino

Hello everybody! Welcome back. I am having a lot of fun writing these baby blogs I must admit. My goal is to have a point of view girls can read when they too are dealing with their pregnancy or baby issues/realizations/holy s— moments.

I think we all work so hard to plan a family and be well rounded for our family (both before, during and after) — all the while knowing that we are so lucky to have the privilege of being a mother — that you just move forward with it all expecting the world to be on board. I certainly did.

So you can imagine most of our shock when you encounter some very strange reactions as you go along, while trying with all your might to tune out the noise and accomplish what you set out to do.

From the weird things people say when you’re pregnant, to the s— they say now, it never ceases to amaze or make you question your choices — and that’s the last thing you need at a time that requires your brain power and undivided attention. Seems like someone always has an opinion and it’s shocked me how more often than not, it’s one that seems to be a not very supportive one. So hopefully you can find support here.

Last blog we learned that you should feel super beautiful and super excited when you’re pregnant with either a boy or a girl (duh). Now this blog will take you on another little journey with me that bowled me over as it happened.

The how-you-give-birth journey.

Oh yes, we all have our visions, fears, hopes and denials when it comes to planning how you’re going to give birth. And then we all have the light-bulb moment as you’re having a contraction that it’s actually all a very animal, uncontrollable, she’s-coming-whether-you’re-ready-or-not reality.

But here’s the oh-so awesome but … There. Are. People. Who. Will. Poopoo. How. You. Did. It.

Not kidding you.

There are people out there so high on themselves, so incredibly insecure about what virtues they have of their own, that they will cling to their birth story as if it was a medal with the inscription “I am better than you.”

Louis taking it easy. Like he should. – Courtesy Majandra Delfino

With my first kid, I went into labor on my due date which apparently never happens. And, strangely, I went from zero Centimeters dilated to seven in a mere 45 minutes — another occurrence that, with your first, barely ever happens.

Needless to say, the ride from my apartment to the hospital was not what I’d imagined. I had hired a doula and was planning on laboring at home with candles and s—. I even thought I’d cuddle with my dog and let her comfort me as I slowly worked through minor contractions.

But images of my husband and I wading in the tub while my Pekingese watched were soon dashed as it became very clear that our baby was coming A.S.A.P.

As my contractions started to narrow down to one minute apart, we bum rushed the hospital doors and tried our best to calmly ask for a nurse. What we got was a couple nurses who assumed I was being dramatic, it being my first pregnancy and all. What they soon discovered was that it was close to pushing time, which was followed by a look of mad respect.

I was crushing it in the whole “Hear Me Roar” fantasy even if I wasn’t on a sheepskin rug rubbing my belly with chakra-awakening oils. But the pain on my left side was telling me another story.

As the nurses and my doctor were cheering me on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was really F—– up so I screamed for an epidural (which took foreeeever) and suddenly, thanks to that magical whale-sized needle in my back, I felt the pain go away.

Within minutes though, it was back. My entire lower body was asleep but my left side was killing me still. It was very strange. Still, clinging to the need to be super L.A. and not listen to my body for fear of being robbed of my humble-brag delivery, I ignored my instinct and pushed.

For five hours.

My doctor, who’s been seeing me since I was 18 and is known for his low cesarean delivery percentage, kept looking at me strangely and I could just tell that something was wrong.

Cecilia contemplating the television set. – Courtesy Majandra Delfino

Finally, after trying in vain, it seemed the only way we could deliver my daughter safely was to do a c-section. After all the pain and intensely fast labor, I finally started to actually shed tears when I learned this would be the outcome. I felt like I was letting everyone down, like a total a-hole for not being able to “do what my body is supposed to do” and every other emotion tied into feelings of failure.

Upon seeing my disappointment, my husband, God bless him, asked the doctor “but what would happen to her if we didn’t have that option, like if this was the medieval times?” (a Game of Thrones induced thought I’m sure of it) to which my doctor replied: “Mother and baby would die.”

Ding ding ding! Thank you!!! He was absolutely right. My daughter was so stuck in my left pelvis that I was only making it worse by insisting on pushing and had I continued, the consequences would have only been bad ones. Even still she came out with a severely misshapen right side of the head followed by a clock-work high pitched shriek every time we’d try to put a hat on her. Till this day, 22 months later, my left hip hurts when it rains and our daughter refuses to wear hats.

And when I see that, when I learn of the history of complications in childbirth, when I hear horror stories of mothers who insist on pushing even though their instincts told them not to, I realize that I was right in letting myself be cut open. That I’m not some statistic of Too-Posh-To-Push — and I even realized that if you are a person who opted for a C-section from the beginning, good for you too. It’s your body, it’s your vagina, it’s your kid.

There are no right and wrong ways to do this. My kid was 9 pounds and 3 ounces with a massive head. My doctor literally recoiled when he saw how big her head was. So what do you want from me? My mom pushed out two massive kids and almost bled out. My childhood friend insisted on pushing out her second kid, despite her doctors warnings, and had to get an emergency hysterectomy at 27. S— happens! And it’s our right to decide how we want to roll with it.

No breathing technique, candle-lighting, kale eating or eagle woman chanting would have built my daughter and I differently. I couldn’t shrink my child’s head down from a 99 percentile no more than I could meditate/eat/stroke my ego into thinking I could control the color of her eyes. But I watch women insinuate that so many f—ing times to those who met an unfavorable birthing story.

I even witnessed one of their husbands piously tell a story about a child suffering a major injury due to being born with its cord around its neck, as if that fate could never befall his incredibly know-it-all wife. Isn’t the whole point to just have a healthy baby? Aren’t there enough problems?

Me sending Zoe and Brooklyn some iPhone love a few months after Louis was born. – Courtesy Majandra Delfino

Listen, if you can stay home and push out your baby with no problem and do some crocheting directly after, then good for you. You were one of those people that would have survived childbirth back in the “medieval times” and that’s awesome.

But please don’t treat me like I should apologize for living because I may not have been … thank God for modern medicine and thank God for these bodies that someway and somehow get the job done and recuperate at lightening speed to just deal and nurse and care for our child. Isn’t that so wonderful? Can’t we talk about that??

At the end of the day whatever we do to get them here is hard work and an absolute blessing no matter what. Don’t you think???

– Majandra Delfino

More from Majandra’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Majandra Delfino’s Blog: Beauty Is in the Eye of the … Belly?

End of the first trimester! – Courtesy Eva Amurri Martino

Please give a warm welcome to our newest celebrity blogger, Eva Amurri Martino!

The actress, who has followed in her mother Susan Sarandon‘s footsteps, is best known for her roles in Dead Man Walking, Saved and Californication, with recent appearances on The Mindy Project and New Girl.

She’ll next appear as Emily in the ABC comedy pilot The Winklers.

Two years after tying the knot in Charleston, South Carolina, Amurri Martino and her husband, sports commentator Kyle Martino, announced they were expecting their first child – a baby girl!

You can find her on Instagram and Twitter @4EvaMartino.

Hey! You may know me from TV’s Californication and The Mindy Project, as the rebel in cult fave Saved, or as the crazy inappropriate teacher in That’s My Boy.

I married my husband, Kyle Martino, a soccer analyst for NBC Sports, in 2011 and we are now expecting a daughter in late summer.

Writing this blog is especially fun for me because even before I got pregnant I found myself reading the celeb mommy blogs on PEOPLE.com and getting excited about the journey to come. I loved hearing women’s accounts of their own experiences at such a special time in their lives and I was amazed by how different they were, yet bound by many common threads.

It taught me that as mothers we really do all want the same things at the end of the day: a healthy happy child, a functioning relationship, and some semblance of a life.

On our wedding day – Tec Peteja

So let me start from the beginning. Kyle and my journey to parenthood did not start in that fairytale, “we-just-got-off-birth-control-and-oh-my-God-I-can’t-believe-
I’m-already-pregnant!” kind of way. You know what I’m talking about. And if you were lucky enough to be that woman, I salute you. That was not my story.

I had a husband who travels for work four days a week, and a body that was taking a while to adjust to being off of birth control, and I found myself nine months later with no pregnancy.

This experience made me a crazy person. An ovulation-kit-
buying, fertility-tracking, supplement-swallowing, bona fide Nut Job. It is a miracle that my husband still finds me even slightly endearing (enter the benefits of your husband getting four days a week on the road in a hotel, without you).

So after nine months of trying to get pregnant, and both of us with crazy schedules at work, we had a heart-to-heart and decided we would stop trying. We would just live our lives, throw out the fertility paraphernalia, and be adult humans again. If it happened, it happened.

And here comes the cosmic joke: a month later, and a day after we hosted a boozy party at our house, I peed on a stick to get rid of it from my bathroom cupboard. To get rid of it!

I was brushing my teeth and the little stick proudly displayed the word “Pregnant.” My toothbrush fell out of my mouth.

Here is where my blog post really starts, ladies and gentlemen, because I took one look at that stick and I was terrified. I suddenly felt like I was 14 again and I was going to get in major trouble.

Am I really pregnant? Am I allowed to be pregnant? Says who?! WHO IS THE BOSS OF ME?! Images of every pregnancy test commercial played through my mind, with these calm women smiling like they just swallowed a big fat Xanax, and I wanted to scream at them, “You idiots! Snap out of it! This is important! Now what the hell are we supposed to do?!”

It is real comedy to be trying for nine months to achieve a specific outcome and then find yourself shaking your husband awake in wide-eyed tears once you reach it because you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

We celebrated, we jumped up and down in disbelief and elation, we cried (me), and we told our parents and my best girlfriends.

And then my first experience with pregnancy started, in what I like to call the “First Trimester No Man’s Land,” because virtually nobody talks about it! Or at least nobody talks much about the downsides. I’m still trying to figure out why.

It seems so crazy that many women aren’t honest with each other about their feelings, experiences, and struggles during the absolute most vulnerable and scary time in their journey to motherhood.

But anyway, I guess that’s the purpose of this blog. And it didn’t take long for the pregnancy symptoms to kick in. And I’m not talking about the morning sickness a.k.a. “all-day nausea,” the breast tenderness that makes even putting on a T-shirt a harrowing experience, the ever-glamorous pregnancy acne, or the uterus-expanding cramps (these are terrifying during the first trimester if nobody has warned you, by the way).

I was expecting all of that fun stuff! Those are the things that moms LOVE to complain about fondly in retrospect because what is more adorable than a little nausea and acne! These symptoms make pregnancy seem difficult, but still kind of funny. Everyone I spoke to had a surprisingly cute story about somewhere weird they had puked.

Okay. Well, that is NOT all that can happen.

I am talking about the unspoken emotional symptoms of pregnancy. Interesting and difficult feelings like confusion, anxiety, guilt, anger, and depression. Hormones are no joke, and for some women, they can induce feelings that coincide with the more talked-about “Hooray, I’m pregnant!” feelings.

And the truth is that I did experience all of these more taboo feelings at some point during my first trimester, and it was horrible. Not because of the feelings themselves as much, but because I wasn’t expecting them and so I felt that something was seriously wrong with me.

The hormones did a number on me, but I did an even worse number on myself with guilt and judgment. The pregnancy acne made me feel unattractive and awful about myself, which made me cry and avoid the exercise classes and social events that I used to cherish.

I already felt like I couldn’t tell anyone about my pregnancy, and so this added to the feelings of isolation. I became anxious about everything: what I was eating, what I wasn’t eating, the vitamins I was taking, the beauty products I was used to (I must have thrown out a full garbage bag of gloriously expensive beauty products for absolutely no good reason).

I vowed to use only organic everything, and then felt overwhelming guilt when I cracked and needed a hair conditioner, pasta dish, soda, or pimple cream that didn’t fall into this category.

A dinner that may not have fallen into the organic category – Courtesy Eva Amurri Martino

I kept trying to set up goals for myself (eating organic, working out regularly, cooking and running errands as usual) that were unattainable for me at that time. Every time I fell short, I felt more and more minimized.

I felt sick constantly which made me feel angry and frustrated. This of course also immediately triggered the guilt reflex. (“If I hate this feeling it means I must hate being pregnant which means I must hate my baby which means I’m the worst mother in the world.” I am now laughing hysterically rereading that sentence.)

My husband, whom I absolutely adore, was suddenly enemy number one to me. There was no way he could hold or comfort me that seemed comforting. His attempts at helping my nausea or mood swings only annoyed me more. I felt like a monster b—- of epic proportions. This absolutely horrified me and I wondered aloud to my mom and my close girlfriends if I would ever feel “normal” again.

In the thick of it, I swore I would have to live the rest of my life that way.

Looking back, all of these feeling mostly stemmed from the fact that I didn’t feel how I thought I was supposed to feel. And that was the most difficult of all. I truly believed that I was the only woman who had ever felt this way during pregnancy.

I had one brutally honest pregnant girlfriend who was a Godsend to me during this time. I texted or called her with every cramp, twinge, or mood swing and she offered her most honest input. She should bill me.

And would you believe that she actually had experienced some similar feelings in her first trimester? In those moments I didn’t feel so crazy anymore. It encouraged me to open up to more women who were mothers, and share what I was going through.

Some of them couldn’t relate, but some could — in spades. More than anything, these women gave me hope that things would calm down and even out as soon as I got through my first trimester.

The best advice, though, came from my husband. I had been having a particularly tough morning, feeling guilty about feeling miserable, and he sat me down and took my hand.

He told me that I needed to cut myself some slack. That he would be just as unhappy if he were going through what I was going through right now. That there was nothing wrong with absolutely hating sensations that were making me feel sick and miserable. That it didn’t make me a bad mother, and that in fact (and here comes my genius husband with the golden nugget) it made me a better mother because I was being honest and dealing with my feelings as they came instead of bottling them up and walking around stressed and pregnant.

He told me he was proud of me, and grateful that I was carrying our child, and that he wanted me to give him as many of my daily tasks as I could so that he could take them off of my plate.

And ladies and gentlemen, I fell even more in love with him.

And the even better part was that HE WAS RIGHT. I needed to give myself a little credit. Who could be blissfully happy when they spent their entire day trying not to projectile vomit, with terrible acne, swollen breasts, and nuclear PMS?

My unborn fetus wasn’t judging me. She was a fetus. And so I forgave myself. And I decided to trust that these feelings would end with the first trimester. And luckily for me, they did.

Through the first trimester – Courtesy Eva Amurri Martino

In an almost-comedic way, one day they just lifted and pregnancy became fun. I never thought I would say this, but I love it. Completely. And once that baby starts kicking and moving inside you, there is a sense of wonder and gratitude that is almost indescribable.

But I will never forget those days and weeks of self-doubt, of guilt and stress that I was somehow not living up to what I was supposed to as a wife and as a mother-to-be, and that is my motivation for sharing my first trimester experience with you.

It’s okay to be happy and sad, to be excited and scared, to be grateful and confused. Let go of being perfect — what you are accomplishing inside your body is the perfection.

We are only human, and we all need to cut ourselves a little slack sometimes.

– Eva Amurri Martino

Thank you for welcoming our celebrity blogger, Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett!

The reality star, who first gained popularity on Girls Next Door, has been on television for nine years and is the author of Being Kendra: Cribs, Cocktails and Getting My Sexy Back.

Wilkinson-Baskett, 28, now stars with her family, including husband Hank Baskett and their 4-year-old son Hank IV, on Kendra On Top on WE tv.

The couple, married since 2009, will welcome their second child — a girl! — in mid May.

You can find her on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter @KendraWilkinson.

Courtesy Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

Hi everyone!

Success! Since the last post I had sex! My confidence is back so I must be doing something right!

I thought for my second post I’d share something that I’ve been working on my entire pregnancy: eating healthy. Instead of finishing a box of cookies for my snack, I’ve been getting my sugar from smoothies, fruit and the occasional Peeps. ;) Though the scale doesn’t lie, what’s happening?!?!

Courtesy Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

When I was pregnant with Lil Hank, I gained 60 pounds on this 5’3″ body. Needless to say the week, months, even years after Lil Hank was born were filled with diet after diet.

Although I’ve gained over 40 pounds, I’m still determined to stay on track to manage my weight while pregnant in the hopes that it will benefit me when Basket Baby #2 arrives. From swimming to running around the soccer field with Lil Hank, I’m getting my fill for exercise. Although I’m not as fast as I used to be, I’m still trying to keep up the hard work.

I’ve also been taking the time during the pregnancy to teach myself how to cook, instead of sitting around on the couch. I never really thought it was important until realizing that I’m about to be a mother of two and I want to make sure I take control and know what is going in and out of my family’s bodies. (LOL)

I’ve started making salads at home mainly because I can measure the amounts of everything. They don’t look gourmet, but they’re healthy and made the way I want them.

My favorite salad — and one that I usually make myself — is pretty simple. I cut up lettuce, toss in a little cheese, add some avocado — my favorite — squeeze lemon juice on it and a sprinkle of Italian dressing. Sometimes I’ll add a protein just to ensure I get my protein for the meal.

I used to put balsamic vinegar on my salads, but I heard a rumor that it could put you in labor and I’m not ready for that yet. (LOL)

Courtesy Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

While I’ve been watching what goes into my body this pregnancy, I’m also looking at what is on my body, especially my face and hair. With my hormones raging, my skin is taking the brunt of it. So, unless I’m headed to an event or in need of getting fixed up, my face is going make-up free. I think the natural glow from pregnancy is so much easier to maintain than putting on foundation, blush and mascara.

I’ve started using products like (and, no, I’m not getting paid by any of these brands to plug, LOL): Novena Skincare, Éminence Organic Skincare and Embryolisse.

I’ve also been drinking a lot of water and even trying to go deodorant-free (Hank doesn’t really like that LOL). You can call me a hippie, but for my hair I may not even wash it for a whole week!

When I have time to just sit and think about life — which at this point sends me into a panic because I think there’s STILL so much to do to get ready for this baby – there are so many things I want to do.

Courtesy Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

Besides teaching myself how to cook, I’m also taking notes on ideas and goals to work on once this baby arrives — from book ideas to the next shoot date for my reality show to ensuring Lil Hank makes it on time to a preschool event.

It is also important to me to have some low-key family time, so we skipped out on Coachella this year and took a little babymoon outside of the city. It was so relaxing!

I could go on and on, but I think that is enough for now.

Until next time!

– Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett

More from Kendra’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Kendra Wilkinson-Baskett’s Blog: Pregnancy the Second Time Around

Courtesy DeAnna Pappas Stagliano

Please welcome our newest blogger, DeAnna Pappas Stagliano.

The real estate agent and Bachelor alum, 32, was one of two finalists on Brad Womack‘s first season before headlining The Bachelorette, where she chose Jesse Csincsak.

Although the engagement didn’t work out, she met Stephen Stagliano through his twin brother Michael, who was a contestant on Jillian Harris‘ season.

After getting engaged in August 2010, Pappas and Stagliano tied the knot in October 2011 in Georgia.

In August 2013, the couple announced that they were expecting their first child. Daughter Addison Marie arrived on Feb. 6 of this year.

Pappas Stagliano can be found @DeAnnaPappas on Twitter and @DeAnnaStag on Instagram.

I am so excited to be writing this blog for PEOPLE alongside many other women who share in the common knowledge of motherhood — my best job yet!

You probably got to know me on The Bachelor and The Bachelorette, but I have since settled into a life off camera.

I met my husband, Stephen, through his twin brother, Michael, who was also on another season of The Bachelorette. Stephen and I were married in October 2011 and we welcomed our first child in February.

Stephen and I tried to get pregnant for almost a year. He and I would describe this time very differently – I was stressed, sad and losing faith. Stephen would say, “Practice makes perfect!”

Courtesy DeAnna Pappas Stagliano

I remember it just like it was yesterday … I was late for my period. Eleven days late to be exact. On top of this, my boobs were so sore! This didn’t alarm me either, because sore breasts are a sign of a period coming.

I was also convinced I wasn’t pregnant because I had taken multiple pregnancy tests all of which said I WAS NOT PREGNANT.

It was a Saturday morning. Stephen and I woke up and were going to head out on our weekend ritual of walking the dog to Starbucks and grabbing a bagel at Noah’s. Stephen convinced me to try one more pregnancy test just to be sure.

I remember instantly seeing two lines. I started screaming. “Two lines, Stephen, there are two lines! Set the timer!!” I was like a crazy person hiding behind the wall in our bedroom as if the pregnancy test was going to jump out and scare me!

Two minutes went by and it was confirmed: I was pregnant. We were over the moon! We wanted to be sure so instead of grabbing coffee and bagels that morning, we grabbed seven more pregnancy tests from CVS!

Courtesy DeAnna Pappas Stagliano

My pregnancy, for the most part, was great! Set aside the first few weeks of nausea and erratic strawberry Pop-Tart cravings, I think I handled it very well. I didn’t have sporadic mood swings (Stephen may beg to differ), and I only gained a total of 26 pounds. I felt rather beautiful up until the very last day.

With that being said, I definitely experienced some of the not-so-great perks of pregnancy as well. No one likes to prepare you for the acne (or back-ne), the constipation, the doubling of your breasts, the moment when you cannot see your vagina anymore let alone shave your legs, or the endless amount of urine your kidneys produce!

Contractions started for me at about 12:30 a.m. on Thursday, Feb. 6. One woke me just about an hour after I had gone to sleep — I was convinced it was the same nightmare I had been having for weeks. I woke Stephen and in his deep slumber he said, “Are you sure you don’t just need to poop?!” I still laugh about that today.

I stayed home until about 7:30 a.m. when I just couldn’t take the pain anymore. So, off we went to the hospital … at 8 a.m. … in rush hour traffic. The seven miles to the hospital were excruciating. I was bowled over in pain in the front seat of our car with contractions coming every four minutes. I was terrified that I was going to give birth on the 101 North!

Courtesy DeAnna Pappas Stagliano

Alas, we made it to the hospital where I was given an epidural and after 15 minutes of pushing, I held Addison Marie Stagliano in my arms. She was beautiful, so tiny, and healthy. Perfect. She was absolutely perfect.

Stephen and I loved the name Addison from the first time we heard it. We knew we wanted to name our first daughter Addison early on. Her middle name, Marie, was my grandmother’s, my mother’s and my middle name. I wanted to pass it on to her because I wanted her to have a piece of my mother to carry with her forever.

Addison has been such an incredible blessing in our lives. Not a single person in the world could have prepared me for the love that I bear for this little angel.

Courtesy DeAnna Pappas Stagliano

Motherhood has been amazing so far. I have enjoyed the sleepless nights, the middle of the night feedings, the first time she smiled at me, our mornings of tummy time, the absurd amounts of pictures we post on Twitter and Instagram, her first bath, her coos, the moments when she freezes at the sound of her mommy and daddy’s voices, and the amount that my love grows by the second for our daughter.

As we say in Bachelor world, she is AMAZING. When used in description of my baby girl, that word will never get old!

Courtesy DeAnna Pappas Stagliano

What is your birth story? Please share!

– DeAnna Pappas Stagliano

More from DeAnna on PEOPLE.com:

• Go Inside DeAnna Pappas Stagliano’s Sweet & Serene Nursery
• Stephen and DeAnna Pappas Stagliano Welcome Daughter Addison Marie
• DeAnna Pappas Stagliano Celebrates Her Baby Shower

Look who’s back — it’s celebrity blogger Jenna von Oy!

Best known for her roles as Six on Blossom and Stevie on The Parkers, von Oy is also a musician who has released two albums and is set to publish a book, The Betweeners.

von Oy, 37, wed Brad Bratcher on Oct. 10, 2010, and resides in Nashville with her husband and five dogs.

They welcomed their first child, daughter Gray Audrey, in May 2012. She is now 2 years old.

You can find her on Facebook and Twitter @JennavonOy, as well as posting on her weekly blog, The Cradle Chronicles.

In her latest blog, von Oy reveals where she’s been the past few months — and shares some pretty big (and exciting!) news.

Our Celebrity Wife Swap family photo – Mark Levine/ABC

I’m baaaaaack!!! (She says in her creepiest, most haunting Poltergeist voice.)

I know I’ve been missing in action for the last several months, and I pray you’ll all forgive my absence. I can only hope said absence made your hearts grow fonder, despite my use of that unoriginal and timeworn cliché.

Yes, it’s true. I took 8 (EIGHT!!!) weeks off from blog writing, both here on PEOPLE.com and on my personal site, The Cradle Chronicles. I swore I would never take a vacation from them, but exceptional circumstances called for exceptional measures.

No, I wasn’t trekking through the Arctic, or meditating with Tibetan monks, or traversing the wild jungles of the Amazon. It was nothing quite that adventurous. Or was it?

I promised myself I would spend my “off” weeks stocking up on intriguing new posts, collecting hilarious parenting stories to relay, and trying out new recipes to tantalize your taste buds on my weekly Cradle Chronicles blog.

But you know what I did instead? I took extended naps with my sweet baby girl. I read her stories, played dollhouse and dress-up, and took her outside to blow giant bubbles. We watched summer roll out its green carpet, planted our vegetable garden, read books, sang silly songs, admired the fireflies illuminating our yard, and shared homemade blueberry muffins.

We baked pretend cookies, viewed so many Sesame Street repeats that I now know them all by heart, and drew pictures of dogs that vaguely resembled cats. Which, thankfully, no one was judging. We laughed, and snuggled, and acted silly together. We took a small family road trip to North Carolina, and celebrated two birthdays (Gray’s and mine), as well as Mother’s Day.

Grand adventures, indeed!

And all the while, I blatantly ignored any and all writing. But can you blame me? I’m incredibly proud of my lazy and idle blog intermission. Sometimes I get so caught up in writing about the joys of parenting that I don’t leave myself quite as much time to live the joys of parenting.

So here I am, eight weeks later, with “nothing” to show for my hiatus … Nothing, that is, except the most wonderful moments spent with a husband and little girl who undoubtedly deserve them more than a blog does! And that means nothing short of everything to me.

Lo’ and behold, a break was just what the doctor ordered. More specifically, it was just what the baby ordered.

No, not the baby that you’re already familiar with (who’s now 2 going on 20, I swear!) I’m referring to the baby in my belly that will be making her big debut at the beginning of November.

Yes, you read me right. WE ARE HAVING ANOTHER BABY!!!

We will be welcoming another little girl into our family in a few months (I’m 20 weeks along), and we couldn’t be more elated and enchanted. Our hearts are overflowing with love, and Gray is simply over the moon about becoming a big sister! She kisses my belly daily, and tells me she’s “watching out for the baby.” I have no doubt this is true.

In large part, my blogging downtime had to do with my pregnancy; I was beyond exhausted. Not to mention, it’s tough to write a blog when you’re making a mad dash for the toilet every 10 minutes!

Gray’s getting a little sister! – Courtesy Jenna von Oy

It also happens that I promised the good folks at Celebrity Wife Swap we could reveal our baby news on their program. Now, it may strike you as a bit out of character that I agreed to the show in the first place, and normally I wouldn’t disagree. But you know what? I couldn’t be more thrilled that I participated. I’m eating my own “I’d never be caught dead on a reality show” words these days.

The fact is it wound up being a once in a lifetime adventure, and a bizarre/refreshing/thought-provoking social experiment, to say the least. After turning down all reality television offers prior to this one, folks have been pondering what motivated me to change my outlook.

Essentially, curiosity got the better of me. The challenge of being in someone else’s home, living in their (as it happens, very fancy) shoes for a week, and walking away with a dose of self-reflection and inspiration, was just too intriguing to pass up.

It was also a brilliant reminder of just how much my husband and I love one another and how perfectly we fit. There’s always more to learn in this lifetime, and I don’t expect my parenting or marriage education to end any time soon. I embrace being a work in progress.

Needless to say, the Celebrity Wife Swap journey was definitely the learning experience I’d hoped for! For those of you who aren’t tempted by the theatrical melodrama that is reality television, or who don’t typically get excited about the lives of kooky celebrities, you may not have been planning to tune into my upcoming appearance.

But if you change your mind and feel like joining the adventure, please watch as I swap lives with Jill Zarin of The Real Housewives of New York on July 15 at 10 p.m. ET/9 p.m CT on ABC!!

This down-home Nashville girl wound up in the posh social scene of The Hamptons, for Pete’s sake, so you don’t want to miss it! Please also join me that night as I LIVE TWEET during the episode. I imagine my sarcasm will be running amuck.

But back to the baby news.

Cuddling – Courtesy Jenna von Oy

Since Celebrity Wife Swap may or may not wind up making a deliberate reveal of my pregnancy in the final cut of the episode, they’ve gone ahead and given me the thumbs up on making my special announcement now.

As you know, I try to be as open and honest as possible with all of you. Consequently, I felt it was too difficult to blog my way through the first and second trimester without mentioning something as significant and life altering as having another baby! It was a tough secret to keep, even for this long, and we definitely have a lot to catch up on now.

Next month, I’m looking forward to sharing more about the little one who’s on her way, to report on the latest and greatest with Gray, and to give you updates on my work endeavors.

But before I go, I should also mention that Blossom is about to be back on television for the first time in 15 years!! It will be premiering on July 7 at 10 p.m. ET/7 p.m. PT on the Hub Network.

Yes, the era of floppy flowered hats and “very special episodes” is about to be bestowed upon a whole new generation of television watchers.

Long live the “Whoa!” the flannel shirts, the fast talking, and all of my acne-ridden awkward phases. Not to mention, the dancing. Oh, the dancing!

See? As promised, I’ve truly returned, in all of my acerbic glory. I’m back, and bigger than ever!

(In case you were wondering, that’s a self-deprecating preggo joke, not a puffed up observation about my popularity.)

If this blog wasn’t long-winded or news-filled enough for you, please make sure you check my Cradle Chronicles blog every Friday, for weekly updates!

Blossom reunion w/former co-stars, courtesy of @HubTVNetwork! @missmayim @joeylawrence @MikeStoyanov #blossomreunion pic.twitter.com/8pTihLtuiK

— Jenna von Oy (@JennavonOy) June 16, 2014

Until next time,

– Jenna von Oy

More from Jenna’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: Biting Off More Than We Can Chew?
• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: My Daughter the Accessory Queen
• Jenna von Oy’s Blog: The World According to Gray

Elisabeth Röhm has been blogging for PEOPLE.com for three years now.

The SAG Award-winning actress, 41,  starred as Dolly in David O. Russell’s latest film, American Hustle.

Röhm will next star opposite Julia Stiles on TNT’s Guilt By Association and is currently filming Blood Father opposite Mel Gibson.

Her book, Baby Steps: Having the Child I Always Wanted (Just Not As I Expected), is available now.

She can be found on Facebook, Google + and on Twitter @ElisabethRohm.

In her latest blog, Röhm — mom to 6-year-old Easton August with fiancé Ron Anthony — shares her thoughts on the ever-evolving mother-daughter relationship.

Courtesy Elisabeth Rohm

Happy Mother’s Day MONTH!

Now that Mom has passed with Lolly following and just recently Aunt Evy also returning to that other place, admittedly most of my days are a measuring of how they would guide me as I land in these new territories of motherhood, which happen most frequently.

Oh, Ya-Ya Sisterhood how I miss your humor and straight up unapologetic methods of being women towards each other and towards us. I think of you so much on Mother’s Day Month (just to make it clear)!

Courtesy Elisabeth Rohm

You are the bookmark and history of my happenings. And now as a modern mother and the next generation with my own reference catalogue for my beautiful Easton, I still count on your cultivation of my independent nature, my survival skills, my crash course of reinvention more than ever that I learned only from you. I inhale you even in your being gone. That’s how strong your love has always been!

Our time is not like the days of old when these amazing mothers were willing to endure the mercurial personalities of our fathers in order to create motherland. Or when they tempered and staved off their real desires, opinions and visions of the future by adjusting to the only world they knew, one where mother’s raised their children, their family with no complaint … but with joy, and sugar and daises, and red sauce.

Well, now that I put it that way, I guess it’s still kinda the same. These women who held it all together and feathered our beds beautifully while the husbands and fathers were rather absent. These were our non-working moms of the 70′s.

The tradition of my entire history is wrought with mother’s and daughters. Mom and me. Lolly and Jaime. Jessica and Olivia. I’m from a long line of amazing women and their daughters. Now Easton and me add our name to the catalogue. Again like with Mom in her era with me, all of my daughter’s needs are happily answered.

Courtesy Elisabeth Rohm

And yet, try as we might to protect some revision of boundaries where the relationship does not become co-dependent like the days of old, the mother-child relationship is so open that it becomes the bearer of the weight of all the needs, hopes and desires as well as the sponge to those of the mother.

And so goes the existence of the mother-daughter relationship, where they bear the weight of the mother’s world. It’s complicated.

My every dream is curbed and guided by that which will make my daughter Easton happy, loved and thrive from her most deep place that she can’t even put a name to yet. All of us moms are human beings, right PEOPLE.com, and in this modern world — which is different from the way we were raised — life has become a bit more complex.

Never the less, whether old-fashioned or complicated by a mother’s work life, we ask our children to accept us as people.

Courtesy Elisabeth Rohm

Welcome to my world, Cookie! It’s called humanness and yet, despite the love I can show you and the constant charm and all the twinkly lights that I try to string for your soul, you’re kinda stuck with my current evolution and are on your own path of discovery to see what’s real for you, what’s lasting and where your deep sustenance will come from. I hope you are okay with what I’ve got to offer you.

To be an artist and live in random places and become random people and to ask that my sweet little girl acclimate to the most foreign of circumstances may seem odd to you, PEOPLE.com. Have I expected too much flexibility and wisdom from my darling, as I have flown the friendly skies and refused to be apart from her? Still it’s what I do to earn my living.

Montreal seemed so obvious for spring break and a new project. She’s in a multi-lingual school in California. I have a million reasons to show her that she belongs to something deep and authentic and that’s in her roots, like this is where my family is from, this is where they are buried, this is where my grandparents fell in love, this is where all my family’s hopes transpired and where my Opa left his hometown to come to the USA. She belongs to a history that is without words just like love is without words.

Even in our new apartment on the road, which can often be the case, I know the way my mom would do things, or my Aunt Nancy or Lolly or Jessica. No night where I don’t cook dinner when I can or have flowers showing off their fragrance in a new vase, where we delight in this new life and opportunity, in this most recent case in Montreal. It was an okay place for Easton to spend her spring break from kindergarten. I try very hard to keep it real.

Courtesy Elisabeth Rohm

We arrived in the rain with the nanny, how very Hollywood (haha)! It was dark, cold and not so pleasant, I thought with a bit of guilt. Geez. I’m a N.Y.C. girl who gave birth to a CALI girl (how could I feel bad about weather), so here we go, landing in a storm with its thunder and lightening.

But Easton found the storm magical! Not my plan, still there we were popping up in a weather-beaten Canada; nothing shiny about it. Too dark, too cold, too wet. We got dropped off at some flat, some night a week before production, which felt kinda normal to us. We lugged our suitcases full of toys, comfy clothes and personal stuff from home up the stairs soggily and then went off to the bistro right under our staircase afterwards for a bite of dinner.

And guess what? They spoke French. They said in French, I only know now: Does she eat bacon? I would have said yes, had I understood. And that was the start of our journey in some place where I speak less of the language than Easton does.

She ate the bacon at 930/630PM L.A. time in the Montreal. My little 5-year old, open to everything and all experiences, was meeting change with happiness and accepting, the which I needed to provide and feel fulfilled. I’m very proud of her openness and excitement about the new place, language and exploration of a new city.

Courtesy Elisabeth Rohm

This trip was so divine, no begging for space with her play dates. All us all the time! It was a new place with new patterns and new schedules. I’ve always imagined that bringing a kid on the road must be somewhat disturbing to their small town life, which is so steady and yet that has not been our experience.

In my small Westchester town, to be honest, my heart kinda broke when Mom sold our house, when I was sixteen. My scope was somewhat small and centered on a little clip of the world. We never relocated when I was little.

It does excite me, as I lean my elbows on some new table we happen to be having dinner at, with sheer excitement for change and newness, that Easton may feel like a real citizen of the world and remember how things shifted in Technicolor when we took up the corner of each others magic carpets and opened our hearts to a new place, people and culture.

Courtesy Elisabeth Rohm

To belong only one place, a place that defines you before you even have a choice in the matter, before you have opened to pain or love or breathe or death or history or change, is normal and also familiar. That’s how Mom raised me.

It is a distinct thought that I have with Easton each time we shuffle onto a plane that she grasps how big the world is and how much unchartered territory there is ahead of her.

For us in our childhood, trips were destinations, you know, vacations mostly. Some candy coated like Florida, where I got the chicken pox. That sucked. There were a few that were more challenging and exotic mostly for Dad’s work.

When my parents went to see my dad’s family or tried to embrace some European heritage, we’d pile onto the plane, sleep, write, play, end up in another country. That’s how it was in my childhood and travel has certainly been expanded upon tenfold with our lives today.

Wherever we are, we’ll cuddle all night. No matter where we end up. Whatever they say. Whatever is promised, we’ll always have each other. I’ll hold you all night. Hold you tight.

I’ve got no real answers other than my daughter gave me an infinite purpose that has been my guiding light since she was born. Now I have a true sense of service and a real center. When you love, you know the difference. And my kiddo, just like my mother, has defined that juicy word LOVE.

Yes, things have changed in the mother-daughter relationship, where my mom held it all down in our small town to us reinventing home from time to time.

Easton and I are on the road sometimes — this is the way of her mom’s life — but it is one that is paved with the love and the wisdom of those we’ve lost I hope and a real desire to discover the world together.

This is a change from childhood, but ours is no different than those that hold onto old-fashioned values in the simplest of ways.

Courtesy Elisabeth Rohm

Thanks, Mom!

Until next time,

– Elisabeth Röhm

More from Elisabeth’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Elisabeth Röhm’s Blog: Mom on the Run
• Elisabeth Röhm’s Blog: Where a Love of Learning Can Lead
• Elisabeth Röhm’s Blog: When a Stranger Needs You

BABAK

We can’t get enough of Lauren Holly‘s hilarious blogs — and she’s back for one more!

Best known for her roles in Dumb and Dumber and on NCIS and Picket Fences, the actress, 50, is currently starring on Motive, airing Wednesdays at 10 p.m. on ABC.

In addition to her acting career, Holly is also mom to sons Azer, 12, George, 11, and Henry, 10, with husband Francis Greco.

She can be found on Facebook and Twitter@LaurenHolly.

In her blog, Holly tries to get to the bottom of what being a tween boy really means — and warns girls this too will pass.

Tweens? I believe this refers to an age group. A strange nickname, as it implies an age that is not one or the other, neither a teen nor what comes before. I guess ‘pre-teen’ wasn’t enough.

I know them as the age group for which I cannot find shoes that are appropriate, “cool,” and in the right size. “Oh wait, you mean shoes for boys that fit feet bigger than a size 5 kids, yet are too small for a men’s size 6? Tweens? Nope, don’t have ‘em.”

Hmm. More like the lost generation.

You gotta feel bad for those that age, especially for the boys. I think I can judge. I’ve been a girl one, and all my awkwardness and struggling is still a palpable memory. Now I have two and a half boy ones. Actually, since my youngest is my biggest, I have three tween-size boy ones.

What they go through is worse.

Tween girls, here’s some advice: pay no attention to boys yet. Those geeky, oily, foul-mouthed things are not the boys to look at yet. Their teeth won’t always look so big. They will stop picking their nose, and control in all gaseous emissions will improve.

No more foul-smelling outbursts at inappropriate moments — which is constantly. Yes, more often than not, they will have no stains on their shirts, and they won’t share the view of their food mid chew.

Soon they will become charming and clean, and speak in complete sentences while making contact with your eyes. Really. Be smart girls, build your ideas, strengthen your friendships, determine your opinions, and dream up your plans.

To flirt with tween boys, to care of their opinions, to make any judgments of any part of one is a complete waste of time.

I can’t blame them. All their glands are pumping big time. Bones are growing faster than one can get completely in control. Most activities include ‘wipeouts,’ and they have to brag loudly about them in order to divert attention from the fact that whatever they attempted actually failed.

Tween boys’ teeth seem to be quite large. Not sure if their head still has to grow, or if man-size teeth just look super big next to boy baby-size teeth.

Unfortunately, hunger and thirst seem satisfied by flavors like ‘Ranch,’ ‘nacho,’ and ‘vinegar.’ All of which are responsible for the most virulent bad breadth. Those flavors also are major stainers — of teeth and of hands.

I think those raging hormones must also cause forgetfulness. That has to be why they still don’t wash their hands or brush their teeth. They start thinking about pretty girls at exactly the moment they become the most unappealing and smelliest. Believe it or not, tween boys, we don’t want to kiss you to celebrate that giant fart. Crazy, right?!

Soon, they will realize that most of the pimples can be avoided by cleansing their face, and hair looks good when it is styled and clean. Tween boys just have trouble keeping up with all this stuff; they are not even as statistically as bright as we tween girls are. (I read that!)

Maybe that’s why they can’t find cool clothes that fit. The shops have hidden them? Still, please not the biggest kiddie size with the truck on the front. Not everyone wants to wear neon acrylic with ample netting, or a sports team jersey every day. What about shirts in normal colors, simple leather belts, a boot with laces. I guess Velcro is still cool … if you are eight.

So, burping, farting, dirty, clumsy things, which have big teeth, pimples, greasy hair, and cannot talk in full sentences about anything unrelated to a remote control or keyboard? The ones with no individual style or interests? Is that a tween boy?

Yeah, maybe it is better they are lost. Hold on girls … just for a little while longer.

By the way, there was outrage in my house when this was read. My guys want you to know, none of them have ALL of these things. Just most of them. lol

– Lauren Holly

More from Lauren’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Lauren Holly’s Blog: Am I Raising a Liar?
• Lauren Holly’s Blog: Boys Are a Whole Different Ballgame

Look who’s back – it’s Catherine Bell! 

Best known for her roles on JAG and Army Wives, the actress will next star in The Good Witch’s Wonder.

She is mom to son Ronan, 3½, and daughter Gemma, 11.

Bell, 45, can also be found on Facebook Twitter @reallycb and Instagram @therealcatherinebell.

In her latest blog, the actress catches us up on her busy life as a mom to two kids.

Courtesy Catherine Bell

Hello!

Happy start of summer! Yup … kids are officially out of school and into summer camps. Everything from swim camps to Shakespeare camp and even a 2-week sleep-away for my big girl, Gemma!

Will someone please tell me where the time GOES?!

I feel so behind — so out of the loop sometimes. (I went to buy a cute new pair of sandals for summer and the salesgirl said they were all sold out of that style, that in fact all their summer clothes had pretty much sold in April and May and now they were getting in cute boots for … FALL?!) Wow.

What’s a busy mom to do? The best she can! That’s all we CAN do! So let’s make the most of it.

My little monkeys are getting settled in our new house — we only moved around the corner, but it might as well have been another country (will someone please remind me to NEVER EVER move again!?).

We’re still in my favorite little pocket in L.A., about 45 minutes from the hubbub of the city. White picket fences, horses, trails, friendly neighbors, kids riding bikes and scooters down the street — I love it! It reminds me a lot of Charleston, maybe.

Good reminder!

Courtesy Catherine Bell

Gemma turned 11 a couple months ago. I can’t believe it! She wanted an 80s-themed roller skating party … and this child of the 80s was all over it. Like, Oh. My. GAWD! I am SO sure.

I had the help of my dear friend and amazing party planner/goodie maker extraordinaire, Brooke Daniells (also known as Hadley and Elizabeth). She helped me make sure it was, like, totally rad!

Do yourself a favor and check out her Etsy store too for the yummiest lotions and lip balms (anyone that knows me knows I am OBSESSED with lip balm! So I know what I’m talking about!).

Courtesy Catherine Bell

Now I have about a month off before I have to prep for Ronan’s 4th birthday … Lego Chimas have been requested. Oh boy, better start planning!

But I think I have at least a week or two to chill … I think.

Well, I thought I did. Then THIS happened.

Courtesy Catherine Bell

Yup, his name is Ranger and he’s a 12-week-old Mini Australian Shepherd. He makes an appearance in an indie I just filmed, called Bandit Hound. The kids are madly in love and he’s precious — sweet, fun, playful and really smart — and a total handful! HA! I wouldn’t have it any other way. Keeps life interesting!

Now that I’m starting to at least feel somewhat settled and (mostly) unpacked in the new house (the kids are signed up and into their camps, and I have a couple months before I start filming again — more on that in a moment!), I’m getting back into taking care of myself.

I’ve always said — and have to remind MYSELF of sometimes — that that is KEY to being able to take better care of our kids and family and life. We can’t do any of it if we’re tired or stressed or overwhelmed.

So I finally stopped unpacking for a moment and got back into a few things for ME (sounds decadent, but more like a tune-up or oil change for a car … VITAL!).

Courtesy Catherine Bell

I started Pilates again — my favorite, I must say. As Joseph Pilates said, “Physical fitness is the first requisite of happiness.” I must say I feel better when I work out than when I don’t! Even just two to three days a week.

And I just got the new Far Infrared Sunlighten Sauna I was gifted hooked up and am really loving that. It is the coolest thing ever! Despite the weather warming up, there’s nothing quite like working up a great sweat and knowing all the toxins are coming out, blood and oxygen is flowing and all the other great benefits!!

I’m trying to eat healthier, too. I’ve always eaten pretty well, but I keep learning more and more about all the chemicals and toxins and junk in so much of our “modern” food!

So, while I doubt I will ever give up my favorite food of a really good burger and sometimes fries (YUM!), I have been eating a lot more fresh fruits and veggies (organic as much as possible) and juicing. (It’s SO good for us! Alkaline, good for the blood and it balances out my coffee — which I still hold so dear ;) haha!)

“BALANCE” — key word for me. Anyone noticing that? ALL about balance. Yup.

Courtesy Catherine Bell

Aside from all that, I’m gearing up to start production on my new series: The Good Witch! Those of you who have seen it know we’ve made seven movies (about one per year) on The Hallmark Channel. The seventh movie, The Good Witch’s Wonder, airs Oct. 25.

When Army Wives ended, Hallmark approached me to see if I’d want to turn this fun character and story into a series. And that’s exactly what we’re doing! We start filming in Toronto in September, doing 10 episodes this season. Stay tuned for more info.

You can always check out the movie and series previews, extras, and updates on www.hallmarkchannel.com/thegoodwitchmovies.

I also had a BLAST doing an episode of a web series comedy, called Los Angeles Right Now, with my dear friend Jennifer Aspen. We had way too much fun and are already planning the next one. Check out my episode, The Bully, here.

Courtesy Catherine Bell

So, that’s what I’ve been up to lately — in a nutshell. Thanks for letting me share with you. It’s been a while! Too long.

Hope you all have been well, and I hope you have a GREAT and BALANCED summer.

XOXO,

– Catherine Bell

More from Catherine’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Catherine Bell’s Blog: All Moved In and Out of School
• Catherine Bell’s Blog: Now Where Did We Leave Off…
• Catherine Bell’s Blog: Time Off Is Such a Treat

A warm welcome back to our celebrity blogger Marla Sokoloff!

Since audiences first got to know her at age 12 as Gia on Full House, Sokoloff has had many memorable TV roles — Jody on Party of Five, Lucy on The Practice, Claire onDesperate Housewives — as well as turns on the big screen in Whatever It Takes, Dude, Where’s My Car? and Sugar & Spice.

Sokoloff, 33, most recently played Dani on ABC Family’s The Fosters

She wed her husband, music composer Alec Puro, in November 2009 and the couple — plus pup Coco Puro — make their home in Los Angeles.

You can find Sokoloff, now mom to 2-year-old daughter Elliotte Anne, on Twitter and Instagram.

First trip to Disneyland! – Courtesy Marla Sokoloff

My daughter’s life is moving fast — like, blink-and-you-will-miss-it-all speed. It’s moving at such a rapid pace, it’s starting to really bum me out. Some days I want to hit the pause button and just hold on to her like this forever.

Her baby days are long gone and honestly, sometimes I see more of a big kid than a toddler. We now have full on conversations where we talk about princesses (Rapunzel is the current favorite — sorry Ariel!) and discuss the day’s events (most likely the park, eating grilled cheese and playing with said Princesses.)

She’s strong, stubborn, outgoing and doesn’t take nonsense from anyone. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never met a funnier little lady in my life. Feel free to chalk that last statement up to unabashed favoritism.

Princess life – Courtesy Marla Sokoloff

She can feed herself, pretty much bathe herself (supervised of course!) and enjoys having her alone time (or as Elliotte likes to tell me, “Mom, I’m having a moment“) while reading books and playing in her room. Of course I realize that this self-sufficiency and enviable confidence is a good thing. It means that I have guided her in the right direction so far, and I’m not messing this mom thing up as bad as I thought!

But, a few weeks ago a major shift occurred in our home. Elliotte will no longer let Mommy leave the house or even take a shower without a serious meltdown. Twenty-eight months in, and we are deep in the throws of separation anxiety.

Most outings sans Elliotte end with her clinging to my leg and wailing like I’ve never heard before. Nothing pains me more than to have her ripped off of me so I can go to work. Or even just to go to the gym! I get in my car and hold back tears whilst feeling like the worst mom ever. (For more on how I feel about the ever present Mommy Guilt read this.)

When Elliotte turned 2 in February, she graduated to the big girl ballet class. That means, parents are no longer allowed in the room so that the teacher (the wonderful and ridiculously patient, Miss Kelly) can have the students’s full attention.

We get to (have to?) watch outside through a two-way mirror. My little ballerina danced into that room, waved goodbye, and plied away without skipping a beat. I was completely blown away by how easy it was for her. Moments later, she stripped down naked for the class because her tutu was “itchy,” but that’s a story for another day.

Last week in ballet, there were tears. Many tears. She wanted Mommy. No part of her wanted ballet. It was heartbreaking. We immediately left ballet and had a good cry over some frozen yogurt instead.

Out of PJs! – Courtesy Marla Sokoloff

In July, my little girl will be starting preschool. Yes, preschool. I can barely even think about being away from her while she colors, paints, and frolics with other children while I sit in my car and clock watch through tears. (Yes I’m an actress, but this is truth not drama.)

With this newfound anxiety — coming from both of us at this point — I can’t help but wonder if she’s ready for this major shift in her life.

With every milestone we reach I feel this intense mix of joy and satisfaction with a very strong dose of sadness. I will never change Elliotte’s diaper again. I may change another child’s diaper, but not Elliotte’s and that, as it turns out, is a very tough pill for me to swallow.

We are both very slowly learning the process of separating from each other, and with each day my heart aches more and more.

I guess I’m just now starting to realize that as soon as Elliotte was born, I began learning the art of letting go.

I let go of the newborn Elliotte. I let go of the breastfeeding Elliotte. I let go of the bottle-drinking Elliotte. I let go of the crawling Elliotte. I let go of the baby Elliotte. I let go of the 1-year-old Elliotte. I let go of the diaper-wearing Elliotte.

One day I will need to let go of the living-at-home Elliotte. (Insert sounds of fear and dread here!)

There are so many Elliottes that I will need to learn to let go of … the very thought of her growing up and leaving the nest simply leaves a lump in my throat.

Beginning of summer fun – Courtesy Marla Sokoloff

Being a parent has so many levels of emotions, I can’t believe how these growing pains make me feel.

Parents, weigh in on this: How do you/did you deal with separating from your children? And did your child have a hard time separating from you?

If you have any helpful tips with separation anxiety and getting through it, I want to hear from you! I know these next few months are going to be tough on both of us and your tips are always so helpful.

I know I’m not alone in feeling completely schizophrenic when it comes to these nuggets growing. One part of me is so proud of her for growing up into this precious little lady and the other part almost relishes her still needing me.

I wanted to end this blog by telling you about an amazing organization that has the ability to change many children’s lives. Milk & Bookies is a nationwide non-profit organization that has a mission to get books to children who don’t have any as well as exposing children to how incredible reading can be!

Elliotte and I attended an event for Milk & Bookies in May and had such a wonderful time—we are really excited to share this awesome cause with you all.

You can even host your very own Milk & Bookies party! For more information please check out: milkandbookies.org.

Milk and Bookies event – Courtesy Marla Sokoloff

Leave a comment below or find me on twitter @marlasok.

xo,

– Marla Sokoloff

More from Marla’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Marla Sokoloff’s Blog: Dear My Formerly Judgmental Self
• Marla Sokoloff’s Blog: Searching for the Mommy Guilt Handbook
• Marla Sokoloff’s Blog: Chatting with Rachael Leigh Cook

Look who’s back (and pregnant!) — it’s Poppy Montgomery.

Best known for starring as Samantha Spade on Without a Trace, she’s back as Det. Carrie Wells for the third season of Unforgettable, airing Sundays at 9 p.m. on CBS.

The actress is expecting her second child — a boy! — with husband Shawn Sanford in the fall. The couple are already parents to daughter Violet Grace, 14 months.

Montgomery is also mother to son Jackson Phillip, 6½, from her previous relationship with Adam Kaufman, as well as stepmom to Braydon, 8, and Haley, 11.

She can be found on Twitter @PoppyMontgomery and Instagram @therealpoppymontgomery.

Our Disney wedding photo! Jackson being held by his godfather, David, me, Shawn holding Violet, Braydon and Haley – Courtesy Poppy Montgomery

“…They say a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I have never been able to believe it. I don’t believe a rose would be as nice if it were called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.” — L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

Since recently announcing that I am pregnant with my third baby, I have found people — all people, young, old, gay, straight, married, single … you name it — do the same three things with surprising consistency:

1. Try to rub my stomach in an unsettling personal manner, even if I just met them.

2. As they reach for my stomach, ask with an excited whisper, “Are you having a boy or a girl?!”

3. Upon learning my unborn baby’s sex (a boy! YAY!) they squeal in delight and then follow with the question that causes my chest to tighten in fear — “Have you picked out a name yet?”

A name. THE name. The name that my unborn son will carry with him for the rest of his life. What if I mess it up?

Shawn and me at my shower for Violet – Rachel Shapiro

Six years ago I almost did mess it up with my oldest son, Jackson. Originally, he was going to be named simply Jack. Jack Kaufman was the name we had picked for him. A strong, simple name, but still edgy and cool.

It was the nickname of my favorite president, Jack Kennedy, not to mention my favorite actor, Jack Nicholson, and one of my favorite authors, Jack Kerouac.

We kept it to ourselves. Guarded it closely. We didn’t want other people’s opinions or name associations tainting it for us.

The big day arrives! All the (soon-to-be) grandparents meet us at the hospital for the impending birth of their first grandson. I beamed through the contractions, “Little Jack is on his way! I can’t wait to meet him.”

Grandpa Kaufman (Jackson’s grandfather on Adam’s side) stared at me for a moment and then said, “You’ve got to be kidding me. You can’t call the kid Jack.”

“Why not?” I asked, annoyed and defiant. “It’s a wonderful name and the only one we like.”

He was incredulous. “You can’t name the kid Jack with a last name like Kaufman. Tomfoolery is what that is.”

“What are you talking about? I am about to give birth and I do not have another name picked out so spit it out, old man!”

He took my hands. “This is the greatest gift I will ever give my grandson,” he said with a little smile. Then simply, “I want you to say Jack Kaufman three times fast.”

I did it.

Jack very quickly became Jackson (try it yourself to see why!) and as it turns out, Jackson is the perfect name for him.

My mohawked little man – Courtesy Poppy Montgomery

“I shall call him Squishy and he shall be my Squishy. Come on Squishy, come on little Squishy.” — Dory, Finding Nemo

Growing up with the unusual name Poppy Petal has led me to the belief that deciding our children’s names is one of the most influencing things we do. This may sound trivial to some and many may disagree, arguing breastfeeding, diet, discipline, vaccinations — the list goes on and on.

However, it is my feeling that almost nothing (with the exception of a very bad laugh) can label a child for the rest of his or her life like a name. What might be fun and quirky initially (“I’m the mother of Pearl Button!”) might well be regretted when the child is older and goes to school.

“Cats don’t have names,” it said. “No?” said Coraline. “No,” said the cat. “Now, you people have names. That’s because you don’t know who you are. We know who we are so we do not need names.” — Neil Gaiman, Coraline

My sixth birthday party. Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, leg warmers, pink balloons everywhere and the crowning glory of a small girl’s birthday party … THE BIRTHDAY CAKE!

Imagine my horror when, instead of the fuchsia pink Barbie doll cake I had been bragging about for weeks, a bright blue cake with a pipe and slippers made out of frosting was wheeled in.

Written in blue puffy frosting across the cake was, “Happy Birthday Dearest Poppy!” and it was topped with a marshmallow and toothpick creation that even my mother was unable to explain away.

My birthday cake had been made for a Poppy — a grandpa, a pop, a person who was lucky if he slept with his own teeth at night. Poppy! My name was not a flower at all! My name was what people called their grandfather!!! To a 6-year-old girl (me) this was a thing of horror!

Miss Violet Grace – Courtesy Poppy Montgomery

“Indeed, there is a woundy luck in names.” — Ben Johnson

Imagine introducing yourself to a crowd as Doug Hole, Hazel Nut or Richard (Dick) Head? Did a bad name help or hinder Australia’s ex-Prime Minister Kevin Rudd? Little K Rudd. Krud. A crud is a large lump of poop that hangs from a sheep’s bottom and a good word if you want to call an annoying person a piece of poo.

And what of my poor friend Dick Woodcock? He has and always will be known as “Timber Dick.” Some names are a life sentence.

Are these simple mistakes or did these parents realize the implications? Could they have been influenced by Johnny Cash‘s astonishingly odd song “A Boy Named Sue?” … “Ya ought to thank me before I die / For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye…”

Toughen us up when we’re young and we might become president? Or can it cause lasting damage to young egos and turn potentially innocent Frank N. Stein into pathological serial killer Frankenstein?

“Letitia! What a name. Halfway between a salad and a sneeze.” — Terry Pratchett, I Shall Wear Midnight

My mind spins with it. Are names lost in translation? And what to do with names that become embarrassing in other countries?

My mom has a client named Chooi (pronounced chewy) Kok (pronounced cock). A perfectly fine name in her native China, but try introducing Chooi Kok as your guest speaker at a conference or convincing a cynical phone operator that you are not being a smart-ass, coarse or crude.

My friend’s sister, Annabel, in an attempt to reinvent herself, moved to a commune, became very hairy and changed her name to Lotah. She imagined, I think, that lotah was somehow related to the lotus flower — rising and blooming above the murky, muddy water to achieve enlightenment.

Whatever she thought, she was clearly unaware that lotah is, in fact, a vessel filled with water with which to wash after urination and/or defecation. Was it simply bad information from her fellow mushroom munchers or a deep need to search her soul for further edification and fulfillment?

My babies! – Courtesy Poppy Montgomery

“If my name was Richard, I’d go by Richard or Rich … not Dick. Hell, I’d even settle for being called Chard.” — Simone Elkeles, Rules of Attraction

My mom’s best friend has — instead of children — two Westmoreland terriers called (you be) Frank and (I’ll be) Ernest. My mom says that she, like them, is bad-mannered, eats too much and runs around in circles. Her name is Deb which, interestingly, spelled backwards is Bed and considering what a lazy lush she is, her name is more than appropriate.

Is this a case of a name perfectly suiting her? Or did she just grow into it? And what of her nasty little dogs???

“Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names.” — John F. Kennedy

As I tuck my sweet baby Violet into her crib, I wonder if I have given her a name that will be an asset or put her at a disadvantage. Violet Grace. Violet the color of purpose, the blue violet flower symbolizes faithfulness and love, whilst Grace comes from the Latin “gratia” meaning God’s favor.

Will she grow up to resemble her beautiful namesakes? Dainty, slender, loving and whimsical? And what of our unborn son? Will he define his name or will his name define him?

Should we give our children a chance to develop their personality, talent and looks before saddling them with ill-fitting labels we cheerfully call names? What is a name anyway? Does it even matter?

To me the answer is yes, most definitely, yes. So much so that I needed help. A voice of reason to quiet the tsunami in my head.

Violet exercising her voice – Courtesy Poppy Montgomery

I asked my husband Shawn (always a wise, calming voice of reason to my neurosis) how to manage my name anxiety. No good decisions were ever made from a place of fear and I wanted to make the right one.

We came up with a system (feel free to use it if you are also struggling with the name game!) and it goes like this:

1. Keep it simple and honor the things you love. Our children’s names are a wonderful way to keep alive the memories of the people, places, things that have touched, comforted, moved and inspired us in our lives.

2. Make a list of your top three names and start using them now, BEFORE baby arrives. It’s similar to renting a house before you commit to buying it. Try it on for size. Yell it from the top of the stairs. Sing it in a lullaby.

If your love for it doesn’t diminish and the first one sticks, VOILA! If after a couple of weeks you can’t stand the sound of it, move on down the list. (We went through about 10 before we finally fell in love with Violet.)

3. Keep a sense of humor.

4. Follow Grandpa Kaufman’s advice and ALWAYS SAY BOTH NAMES TOGETHER THREE TIMES FAST!!!

– Poppy Montgomery

More from Poppy’s PEOPLE.com blog series:

• Poppy Montgomery’s Blog: Why Is Everything I Crave on the ‘No’ List?
• Poppy Montgomery’s Blog: A Mother’s Hunt for the Perfect Christmas
• Poppy Montgomery’s Blog: Attempting to Handle Public Meltdowns (Without Ending Up In Jail)